


The Gathering Storm

by BecauseBraime



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon through season 6 and then fuck it, F/M, Jaime leaves Cersei after the sept because why wouldn't he, Sansa doesn't hate Daenerys for no reason, Sansa doesn't hate her period, not cersei friendly, secret Targaryens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 34
Words: 81,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23745145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseBraime/pseuds/BecauseBraime
Summary: Daenerys arrives at Dragonstone, but she isn't alone. The loyalists who smuggled her out of Westeros are going to help her reclaim her throne. She very quickly finds out that Robert didn't find and kill every living Targaryen in Westeros. As she pulls together allies, word soon reaches her that Cersei isn't the only threat. To win the wars to come, she needs the North and intel on Cersei. It seems she can accomplish this with Brienne of Tarth and the last person she imagined needing as an ally, the Kingslayer.
Relationships: Daenerys Targaryen & Selwyn Tarth, Jaime Lannister & Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister & Sansa Stark, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Tyrion Lannister/Sansa Stark
Comments: 354
Kudos: 305





	1. Loyalty (Tyrion)

After far too long on a boat surrounded by emotionless Unsullied and agitated Dothraki, Tyrion was thrilled to arrive at Dragonstone a fortnight ago. He felt fatigue set heavy in his bones. Both his mind and body pondered for how much longer he could play this game.

The Game of Thrones. Political positioning, strategizing, scheming, bartering, and of course… war.

Looking to Daenerys, she was every vision the queen she sought to become. She carried herself with confidence and had a commanding presence. The young woman sat in the great hall at Dragonstone tapping her fingers against the iron forged chair.

Her hair was fashioned in a long braid pulled around over her left shoulder as she donned black breeches and a sleek black coat with red trim; a strong nod to her Targaryen lineage. The queen’s pale skin and violet eyes were a stark contrast to her attire

Upon arrival, Varys’ spies had reported back quickly on the state of Westeros. Cersei had gone mad and blown up the sept in effort to take out all perceived enemies in the capital. In her recent activities, she had made permanent enemies to the south and southwest.

Dorne was ready to march on her for the role she played in the death of their prince and heir. The Reach was ready to march on her for nearly wiping out their house and current heirs to Highgarden. Two generations of Tyrells wiped out in one destructive blast.

The Iron Island seemed to be at war with themselves which was the most fitting and amusing state of things in Tyrion’s mind.

Informants had also shared the recent events at Winterfell. The Starks had reclaimed their ancestral home in a most gruesome battle with Ramsay Bolton; Roose’s legitimized bastard. With the north back in Stark control, the kingdom was again in open rebellion.

Tyrin found the state of affairs in the North rather unsurprising; particularly upon hearing the Vale had rallied around them. What did surprise Tyrion was hearing of Sansa’s survival and leadership role in the North.

He had prayed to the seven that Sansa found her way to safety after Joffrey’s death, but they received little information surrounding the ongoing of Westeros from across the Narrow Sea.

The West and Riveralnds were all that Cersei had guaranteed support from which left the Stormlands.

It was for the Stormlands that Daenerys sat atop her throne at Dragonstone today. The Unsullied guards opened the door to the massive hall as their invited guest entered with a dozen of his own men at his back.

Growing up in exile across the Narrow Sea, Daenerys knew very little about how she and her brother escaped Westeros after the sack of King’s Landing. All she knew was that a few remaining loyalists saw them to safety in Braavos and provided enough coin to ensure they were well provided for.

It wasn’t until Ser Barristan, a Stormlander himself, joined her cause and divulged more information that Daenerys came to know who those loyalists were and who led the effort. That man stood before her now.

Tyrion gasped as he took in the sight before him. The man was a monster; likely the size of the Mountain. He wore a stern expression adorned by a full beard and shoulder length, blonde hair. His expansive chest bore the sigil of his house; Tarth.

Missandei spoke commandingly from her position beside Tyrion. “You stand in the presence of Daenerys Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, queen of the Andals and the First Men, protector of the Seven Kingdoms, Mother of Dragons, Khalessi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains.”

Lord Tarth sighed and rose a brow at Tyrion’s self-proclaimed queen. “You’ve been busy, haven’t you? I fear my titles are not quite as exciting and I’d rather skip over them if its all the same to you.”

A small smile tugged at Daenerys’ lips as she stood from her seat and slowly walked down the steps towards the older lord.

Tyrion’s eyes narrowed in rapt interest as Daenerys extended her hand toward Lord Tarth who took it in his massive paw and placed a kiss to her knuckles. “You look like your mother, but you have your father’s eyes.”

Tyrion didn’t need to see the look on Daenerys face to know the impact the words had. Without a moment’s hesitation, she dove for the older man and hugged him tightly. “Its good to see you uncle.”

As they broke the embrace, Selwyn smiled warmly at the young queen. “And it is excellent to see you looking well, your grace.” Selwyn bowed his head deeply before looking back to Daenerys.

Daenerys smiled warmly and extended her hand towards Tyrion. “This is my Hand, Tyrion Lannister.” Selwyn inclined his head towards Tyrion; an unimpressed look on his face. “Yes, I was most surprised when you wrote indicating not only of your health and success overseas, but of your choice in hand.”

With an apologetic look towards Tyrion, Daenerys titled her chin up to Selwyn and spoke in a tone that brokered no argument. “Yes, I concede that it had not been ideal to appoint a man whose brother slew my father, but according to Varys, Tyrion can be trusted. His own kin have cast him aside and he has been of great help to me in my effort to return here.”

Selwyn cocked a brow at her words. “It is not Tyrion’s relation to the Kingslayer that makes me question him, but rather his father and sister. As I said in our correspondence, your mother was my dear friend. I swore to her and my wife that I would always do my best to protect Rhaella and you children. Unfortunately, the protection you needed was from your father.”

With a deep sigh, Selwyn continued. “Now Tywin Lannister and Cersei Lannister are another story. They aided Robert in hunting down and killing any known living Targaryen. It is that connection that worries me. How do you know this man doesn’t lead you straight to Cersei?”

Tyrion took a step forward and spoke to Selwyn beseechingly. “My lord, if I may…”

Before he could continue, Daenerys lifted her hand to stop him. “I trust this man with my life. He killed his father and his sister tried to have him killed under false accusations. I believe his story. Varys has confirmed it. Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan also confirmed the ill will between Tyrion and his sister.”

Selwyn studied Tyrion hesitantly, but nodded to Daenerys. “If that is your determination, I will say no more. So, what can I do to help?”

Daenerys looked back to Tyrion for reassurance. She had spoken with him and Varys before calling on Selwyn to visit Dragonstone. From the intelligence they gathered and her recent correspondence with the older lord, Daenerys believed that he would support her and help sway the Stormlands in absence of a lord paramount.

Ser Barristan had noted the same when Daenerys inquired about the quality of the man. Having been from the Stormlands himself, Daenerys was inclined to trust his opinion on the matter.

“I would ask that you call on the other vassals of the Stormlands to support my claim. We have sent missives to Dorne and the Reach as well. Given their recent history with the crown, we feel they are likely to support me as well. I would have all the southern kingdoms with you support in the Stormlands.”

Selwyn nodded his head and sucked in a breath. “I will write the other houses. I have no doubt they will support your claim. You make a rather compelling case. From what I gather, you have nearly 100,000 men and three dragons. You have birthright to the throne and most importantly, you are not Cersei. The Stormlands went to war to remove her bastard son after Robert’s death. It’s a shame our kingdom couldn’t stop its infighting to achieve the objective.”

With a wide smile, Daenerys inclined her head at the man. “I thank you for this and for all you did to ensure my safety many years back. Lady Olenna and Ellaria Sand have indicated they will treat with me here within a fortnight. I would appreciate if you could stay to meet with them and to await word from the Stormland vassals.”

The older lord looked to his men and shrugged. “I suppose we’ll need rooms in that case. I’ll write to my master at arms on Tarth who is managing the island in my stead.”

Daenerys spoke to Missandei in valyrian asking her to have the staff prepare rooms for Selwyn and his me. She then turned to Grey Worm and informed him that Selwyn’s men were to have their swords returned at once, reminding her commander that they are invited guests and allies.

Selwyn smiled and spoke in valyrian to Daenerys informing her that his men had left their swords on the boat. They never intended to come ashore as anything other than allies.

Daenerys raised a brow; an impressed smile on her face. “You speak valyrian?”

Selwyn chuckled. “My entire island speaks the language. Prior to my wife, our island had its fair share of Targaryens and Targaryen bastards. I’m wouldn’t be surprised if I have traces of Targaryen blood as well.”

At the information, Daenerys turned to Tyrion. “Did you know that?” For his part, Tyrion could only shrug in surprise.

Daenerys looked back to Selwyn and her brows furrowed slightly in contemplation. “Uncle, I’m curious. Before you said that Robert and his supporters hunted down and killed all known, living Targaryens. I know my aunt passed, but did you have any children? Do I have cousins?”

With a heavy sigh, Selwyn’s face fell. “I had four children. One lived past childhood. My remaining child, she… she left to fight in Renly’s war. I heard she swore herself to Catelyn Stark after Renly’s death. The only other word I’ve received of her was a ransom letter. She was captured her in the Riverlands. I offered everything I had, but I never heard back. I fear… I fear she is lost to me.”

Tyrion immediately put the pieces together in his mind. “Brienne. Your daughter is Brienne _of Tarth_.”

Both Selwyn and Daenerys looked to him with confusion writ across their faces. Selwyn spoke in a hushed tone. “You know my daughter? Is she well?”

Tyrion sucked in a breath. “She was sent to King’s Landing at the behest of Lady Catelyn Stark for the purpose of exchanging my brother for her daughters. She and my brother were captured by the Boltons along the way, but she was very alive when last I saw her.”


	2. New Oaths (Jaime)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime arrives in the north after abandoning Cersei. He is hoping Brienne will help him sort things out, but the lady of Winterfell isn't so certain about her enemy's twin.

Jaime had ridden hard for nearly three weeks to get to Winterfell. He was tired and hungry, but the smell of wildfire lingered in his nose and urged him forward. When he returned from the Riverlands weeks prior, he knew upon seeing the smoke plume above the city what had happened. Cersei became Aerys.

If he was being honest with himself, he shouldn’t have been surprised. Jaime had witnessed Cersei’s psyche cracking little by little over the years. The early signs of madness were there, and he ignored it. Too in love with the lie that was Cersei, Jaime overlooked the very actions he still had nightmares about from his time in Aerys’ kingsguard.

It started with how Cersei sought revenge on those she perceived as threats. Her requests of him went from mild to severe. He witnessed her paranoia increase to a degree where everyone was suspect in her mind. Then he heard what she did to Septa Unella.

Cersei had the Mountain rape and beat her to death. All Jaime could hear were Rhaella’s screams as Aerys raped and beat her. Cersei next had Ellaria Sand watch as her daughter died before her; made her watch as the girl’s carcass rotted chained to the wall across from her.

While Jaime didn’t lament their punishment for their role murder of Myrcella, it was the look in Cersei’s eyes that unnerved him. All he could see was Aerys’ smile as he watched enemies burn.

Cersei then used wildfire. She became the very thing that Jaime sacrificed his reputation to prevent. All he could think was ‘Burn them all. Burn them all.’

As he watched Cersei slip into madness, Jaime also felt their relationship change. What he once believed to be love he now recognized as an unhealthy addiction. A relationship that started as childish curiosity and turned into a dangerous lust born out of hurt, loss, and need.

The first signs of the lie that was their relationship came when he returned form the Riverlands with one less hand. He saw the disgust on Cersei’s face. The revulsion when his stump reached for her. If Jaime was being honest with himself, Cersei wasn’t the only one to exhibit change. He changed.

While Jaime couldn’t admit it to himself then, he could admit it now. He returned with more than a missing hand. He returned with a missing heart. The hand he gifted Locke. The heart he gifted Brienne.

Initially he thought the feelings for Brienne were the result of extreme circumstances and shared emotional trauma at the hands of Locke’s men. Then he sent her away with a priceless sword, new armor, and a squire. Then he realized that dreams of blue eyes permanently replaced green eyes. Then he realized how much he longed for her when he saw her at Riverrun.

Jaime needed Brienne as much as Cersei needed her crown. When he walked out of the throne room from Cersei’s coronation in disgust, there was only one place he could think to go. Wherever Brienne was.

The rumors of the battle for Winterfell were the talk of the inns and taverns the further north he rode. Jaime became consumed with thoughts of Brienne. He prayed to the seven that she hadn’t made it back in time for the battle. That she was still alive. The thought of Brienne not in this world left him feeling lost.

Jaime knew he could never have Brienne. She was too good for him. Too honorable. Too pure. He was a one-handed, sister-fucking, oathbreaker with shit for honor. Regardless, Jaime resolved that he would forever fight at her side and give his life for hers. He just needed to be around her.

The gates of Winterfell loomed in the distance as he considered the situation for the first time since he left. He was a lone lion headed into a den of wolves. Jaime had spent so much time lost in thoughts of his feelings for Brienne and the lie that was Cersei, that he neglected to consider how the Starks might react to his presence.

As he neared the gates, a pair of Northern soldiers looked at him as though they had seen the ghost of Ned Stark himself. “Kingslayer!? What business do ya have here!”

Jaime sucked a deep breath and looked past the men into the courtyard. “I’m here to see Brienne of Tarth, Lady Sansa’s sworn sword.” _Gods please be here. Please be alive._

The men’s brows furrowed, and they looked to one another for an answer to the situation was the Kingslayer showing up unannounced at the gates of Winterfell.

“Listen I don’t want you to hurt yourselves thinking on this so hard, so why don’t one of you run along and get Lady Brienne.”

One of the men snarled and took a menacing step towards Jaime, but before he could speak, Jaime saw Pod moving towards the stables. “Pod!” At the sound of his name, the young man stopped and spun in circles trying to find the source. “Pod! Over here!”

Pod’s eyes landed on Jaime and his eyes went wide. “Ser Jaime? What are you doing here?”

“I need to speak with Lady Brienne.” At his words, Pod ran back into the castle and Jaime felt a wave of relief. _Gods she’s alive_.

Jaime wanted to cry for joy, but he felt the hilt of a sword wedge into his gut. “Hey! What the fuck do ya think ya doin’!? We didn’t give ya permission to summon anyone. Ya about to find yaself in the cells until we get Lady Sansa or Jon to figure out what to do with ya.”

Standing to full height, Jaime snarled at the man. “Do that again and you’ll find the opposite end of my sword in your gut.” From behind the men, the image of Brienne came into view with ever loyal Pod trailing after her.

She moved quickly towards the gates as Jaime shoved past the guards. He collided into Brienne and wrapped his arms around her. “Brienne. You’re alive.” Jaime felt Brienne stiffen in his arms, but slowly her hands moved to his back.

“Ser Jaime? What’s happened? Why are you here?” Brienne’s voice seemed to envelop him, and the words vibrated against his chest. As he release her and took a step back, Jaime shook his head and averted his eyes to the ground.

“She used wildfire, Brienne. She burned them all.” Brienne sucked in a deep breath at his words. “Who? Who used wildfire, Jaime?”

Looking into Brienne’s eyes, Jaime felt his body relax. He had made it to Winterfell, and she was so real and alive. She would know what to do. How to make this right.

“Cersei. When I got back, I saw the smoke. She blew up the sept and whole fucking area with wildfire. All her fabricated enemies. And Tommen… he… he killed himself because of it.” Brienne gasped and recoiled at the words.

“Jaime. I’m… I’m so sorry.” Brienne took a deep breath and spoke again. “Come inside. Lets get you something to eat and drink. You look like you rode through the seven hells.” Jaime followed wordlessly as the guards stood dumbfounded. 

“Ya can’t just take ‘im in there! We need to tell Lady Sansa!” The guard who spoke moved to follow them, but Brienne rounded on the man.

“I will inform Lady Sansa of Ser Jaime’s presence right after I inform her that you let him push right past and into the courtyard. Will that satisfy things!?”

The man’s eyes went wide as he stammered. “I was gunna stop ‘im! If anyone asks, I’m sayin’ ya let him through!”

Brienne rolled her eyes and turned back towards the castle. Jaime could feel the questioning eyes of northerners on him as they made their way through the halls.

Jaime mused that it was a good thing he showed up after they just battled for their lives. They seemed far too tired to bother with the likes of him.

As they entered the hall, Brienne pushed him into a seat and barked at Pod to fetch some bread and water. Jaime snorted. “What? No wine?”

Brienne gave him a warning look and sat down across from him. “So, what happened? Does Cersei know you’re here?”

Jaime shrugged. “I don’t know. I just… walked out. I saw her at the coronation, and I couldn’t stay there. I killed Aerys for less. I don’t know how I just walked away without _doing_ something.” Jaime ran a frustrated hand through his hair and looked around the hall to ensure no one had heard him.

Brienne sighed and looked at him with sympathy in her eyes. “Yes, well she’s the woman you love. I hardly imagine you felt the same for Aerys.”

“No! No, she is not the woman I love. I haven’t loved her in quite some time. I don’t know why I didn’t stop her before. Why I didn’t leave.”

Brienne sighed and moved to speak, but before she could, Pod came rushing back with bread and water. With a nod of thanks, Jaime ate the bread in silence. His mind was spinning, and he prayed that Brienne believe him about Cersei.

“What do you plan to do?” Jaime chuckled at Brienne’s question. With a slight shrug, he looked around. “I hadn’t really thought that far ahead yet. I was somewhat hoping you could figure that out.”

“Me? How would I know what you should do?” Brienne looked at Jaime as though he sprouted an extra head.

“The honorable Brienne of Tarth always knows what to do.” Jaime’s tone had a slight teasing lilt to it as he looked to her; a small smile tugging at his lips.

Brienne glared at Jaime. “Do not mock me.” Jaime observed how her shoulders stiffened and her eyes grew distant.

With a heavy sigh, Jaime dropped any traces of jest from his tone and eyes. “I am not mocking you. I don’t have a plan. I don’t know what to do.” His words were laced with frustration with himself and the helplessness he felt in the situation.

“Why not return to Casterly Rock then?”

At Brienne’s suggestion, Jaime snorted. “I won’t aid Cersei any longer, but I won’t move against her. I can’t go back to the Rock or I’ll be in open rebellion.”

“So, you came here to the North? A kingdom already in open rebellion.”

“Well yes, you’ve made this terribly inconvenient for me. If you had been somewhere else, this would be far less of an issue.” Jaime’s tone was light, but every part of him wished it was true. Wished she wasn’t pledged to Sansa.

Brienne took a deep breath and crossed her arms. “I hope you have a better answer than that when you speak with Sansa. I need to tell her you’re here. Just wait here with Pod for a moment. Try not to piss anyone off while I’m gone.”

Jaime looked to Pod who sat down beside him; a warm smile on the young man’s face. “Are you truly alone? Bronn or your commanders aren’t with you?”

With a slight chuckle, Jaime shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint you, Pod. It’s just me.” Finishing the last of the bread, Jaime drank the water, relishing the feel of the cool liquid moving down his parched throat.

Brienne soon returned and bid him follow her to Sansa’s solar. As they entered, Jaime saw Sansa Stark sitting behind a desk; missives piled high around her.

The young wolf sat back and crossed her arms, an icy expression on her face. “Well I must say, this is hardly a visitor I expected to receive. Explain to me why I shouldn’t immediately have you executed for your crimes against my family?”

“Crimes against your family? We were at war!”

“You attacked my father and his men in the streets well before my brother marched against the crown.” Sansa’s tone was cool and collected but laced with hatred.

“Your mother abducted my brother and held him prisoner. I was protecting my House and my family. I would do it again.” Jaime felt his irritation mount as he glared at the young woman before him.

Sansa turned to Brienne and her eyes softened slightly. “I’m sorry Lady Brienne, but I see no reason to let him stay. If he wishes to remain in the North, he will be thrown in the cells. His crimes are past forgiveness.”

“My lady, Ser Jaime has turned his back on Queen Cersei for her actions in King’s Landing. He is not your enemy.” Brienne spoke confidently from beside Jaime. He looked between her and Sansa, but neither woman moved to speak.

Sansa looked back at him before returning her gaze to Brienne. “He may be at odds with his sister now, but for how long until he goes slinking back? There is no honor him.”

With a deep breath, Brienne shifted on her feet before meeting Sansa’s eyes. “There is honor in him, I have seen it. When we were both taken prisoner and the men holding us tried to force themselves on me, Ser Jaime defended me and lost his hand because of it. Without him, you would not be alive. He armed me, armored me, and sent me to find you and bring you home because he'd sworn an oath to your mother.”

Jaime felt a warmth rush through him at the way Brienne stood before her lady and defended him. _No one has ever defended me before_. Not for the first time, Jaime felt unworthy of having Brienne in his life. He found it near impossible to stop staring at her, but Sansa’s words cut his revere.

“I would speak to Ser Jaime alone, Lady Brienne. You can wait outside until I’ve decided what to do with him.”

With a slight bow of her head, Brienne turned to leave, but not before casting a warning look at Jaime.

As the door shut, Sansa looked to him from her seat. “You’re quite lucky I have a high regard for Lady Brienne or you might find yourself missing more than a hand. What do you want in the north? Why not go somewhere else?”

 _Seven hells. Brienne was right. I should have thought this through_. “I truly don’t have a plan, but I wish to fight alongside Brienne.”

Sansa narrowed her eyes at him before responding. “You wish to serve the North?” 

Jaime chuckled slightly before responding. “No, I do not wish to serve the North. Brienne doesn’t serve the North either, she serves you. She was quite clear on that distinction when she marched me through the Riverlands on a leash and killed three of your brother’s bannermen.”

Sansa raised a curious brow as she took in the words. “So, you mean to pledge your sword to me?”

Jaime shook his head and pursed his lips. “No, I think not. I would consider pledging my sword to Brienne if necessary, so in a roundabout way I can see how you would assume that.

With a huff of irritation, Sansa stood and walked around her desk to stand before him. “So, you just expect me to let you follow Brienne around here while she serves me?”

“Why not? Pod does the same thing.”

Sansa tilted her head; her eyes cast an unimpressed glare. “Pod is a squire. He is not Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West.”

“So, you’re saying I’m too impressive to be Brienne’s squire?”

“I would hardly call you impressive.”

“Well what then would the Lady of Winterfell call me then?”

“Codependent.”

Jaime feigned insult. “That seems a bit harsh. I did manage to get myself here on my own. Besides, who says you can’t be an impressive albeit codependent squire? Did you know Prince Aegon Targaryen squired for Ser Duncan the Tall?”

Sansa’s face was impossible to read and despite his light tone, Jaime felt anxious. _If she doesn’t let me stay with Brienne, I have nowhere to go._

“What do I get for allowing you shelter at Winterfell? You don’t mean to fight in our army. You don’t mean to pledge your sword to me. You instead wish to follow Brienne around all day long while wishing away the chaos your sister inflicts on Westeros.”

_Well when you put it like that…_

Jaime gritted his teeth and forced a smile that did not reach his eyes. “What do you want then?”

“Your army.” The young woman’s words felt like a slap to Jaime’s face. “I don’t wish to fight my sister.”

Sansa appraised him and Jaime couldn’t help but squirm under her gaze. “I do not have the resources nor the energy to move against your sister. The north will not bend the knee to her, but if we find ourselves in war with her, it will be because _she_ moved against _us_. If she marches on the North, will you call your banners to protect us?”

 _To protect Brienne_.

“You have my word. I will call my men to the North’s aid should the need arise, but _only_ if she marches against you. I will not move against King’s Landing.” Jaime felt hope pool in his heart as Sansa moved to the door.

“Lady Brienne, please come in.”

Brienne moved into the room and looked to Jaime cautiously. After closing the door behind Brienne, Sansa moved back around her desk and sat down.

With a heavy silence hanging over the room, Sansa looked to Brienne; her eyes briefly flitting to Jaime. “I’ll allow Ser Jaime to remain at Winterfell, but he is your problem to deal with.”

Jaime felt a wide smile stretch across his face as he looked to Brienne.

“My problem to deal with, my lady?” Sansa quirked a smile at Brienne’s confusion and looked to Jaime.

“Well Ser Jaime has made it quite clear that he won’t be fighting in my army. He won’t be pledging his sword to me either. He won’t be moving against his sister nor will he be doing anything of consequence for me. He has however promised to call his banners should Cersei move against us. In the meantime, he seems quite content following you around as a glorified squire of sorts.”

Jaime snorted and looked to Brienne with a dramatic bow. “This will be fun. Just like the good old days, my lady.”

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him. “The good old days? Would that be before or after you saw fit to fight me on a bridge and get us captured in the process?”

“Before of course. If it’s all the same to you, I would rather not lose another hand. I don’t have one to spare.”

So lost in needling Brienne was Jaime that he hardly noticed Sansa watching them. From behind the desk, she spoke in a tone that brokered no argument.

“Let me be very clear about this Ser Jaime, if I catch the slightest hint of treason or if I hear of any effort on your part to return to your sister, it is not just you who will suffer the consequences.”

With a quick look to Brienne, Jaime immediately understood the ramifications and all mirth left his tone. “I am not going back to Cersei. I will not break my oath to you about calling for aid should the need arise.”

“Good. Lady Brienne, please inform the staff that Ser Jaime will require a room near you and Pod.” Jaime’s eyes, wide with excitement and relief, flashed to Brienne. With a bow to Sansa, Brienne turned to leave, and Jaime moved to follow.

“Ser Jaime. One more thing.” Jaime stopped in his tracks and looked back to Sansa. The young woman waited to speak until Brienne’s footsteps were well down the hallway.

“You don’t need to answer it now, but I am most curious to know. Exactly how long have you been in love with my sworn sword?”


	3. Support (Daenerys)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys seeks to gain support from new allies. More whispers from Westeros filter in.

Daenerys stood before the map in the war room at Dragonstone. To her left stood Tyrion and Varys. To her right stood Selwyn.

Across the table was Ellaria Sand, Lady Olenna, and Yara Greyjoy. Ellaria and Olenna had arrived at Dragonstone within the last two days, but Yara had been an unexpected visitor to the island not even a week ago.

Her uncle, Euron Greyjoy, had usurped her claim over the Iron Islands. The young woman found herself with limited resources to reclaim her island, but she and Daenerys had a common enemy; Cersei.

Yara knew that her uncle planned to align with Cersei by proposing marriage to the widowed queen. Unlike her uncle, Yara heard rumors of a dragon’s arrival in Westeros and with her; dragons and massive army.

In exchange for her willingness to bend the knee, Yara hoped to see Daenerys support her claim over the Iron Islands. While Yara had initially asked for independence, Daenerys had refused it on grounds it would put her in a position to then field similar requests from other kingdoms and soon, Daenerys would be ruling nothing but King’s Landing.

Now Daenerys looked across the table at the three women before her. The visitors sought to understand why they should back Daenerys, aside from an obvious shared hatred of Cersei.

With a sly smile, Daenerys pointed out that with or without their support, she had both the numbers and _fire_ power. She also offered them something no one else would; a ruler who meant to break the wheel.

“Break the wheel? Speak plainly girl. I’m old and not long for this world. I don’t mean to waste what little time I have left sorting through riddles.”

With a slight chuckle, Daenerys smiled warmly at Olenna. “Yes, I seek to rule all seven kingdoms, but I wish to rule differently than my predecessors. Those who came before me were men. Aegon and his sister wives conquered these kingdoms and yet he was king. He ruled Westeros with his sister-wives _at_ his side.”

Walking around the board, Daenerys eyed King’s Landing. “The laws of Westeros have been installed and overseen by men. While not all men are ill intentioned, many sought to suppress opportunity to rule by others. Class systems devised so that only certain people had opportunity to rule. Gender systems so that women would have little power and opportunities. I mean to do away with that. _Should_ I take a husband, I will still rule. _Should_ I be able to produce any heirs, my firstborn will rule regardless of what is between the child’s legs.”

At her words, the three women across the table donned similar expressions of an impressed surprise. Ellaria spoke hesitantly. “You would see our daughters’ rule where our sons are told they have claim?”

Daenerys raised a brow and assessed the Dornish woman. “I would see them rule based on birth order and merit. I would also see a woman’s bastards given right to claim owned or entitled lands. Should an unwed noble woman produce a child, that child will be granted claim.”

Yes, Daenerys had studied on Dorne before the meeting today. She understood that it was a rather fluid kingdom. Men and women of all social status took lovers and birthed bastards. Ellaria herself had Sand snakes to claim.

While Daenerys had not grown up in Westeros, she understood that to rule the kingdoms she needed to understand them. She needed to sway them to her and prove that she could lead kingdoms she did not grow up in.

Looking back at the map, Daenerys narrowed her eyes at the board and looked back to the women before her. “I have the numbers and resources to take the throne without sacrificing your armies for my cause. What I look to you for is support of my claim. I would ask then when I take my throne, you bend the knee and help me rule Westeros as it should be ruled.”

With her head raised to the women before her, Daenerys continued. “I will not take the throne as a drunken usurper whoring about court and ignoring the needs of the people. I will not take the throne as a bastard king with a penchant for cruelty. I will not take the throne as a madwoman blowing up her own people and allies in a play for more autonomy and power.”

Olenna was the first to speak. “You have support of the Reach. Cersei is a disease and must be removed from power.”

Ellaria tiled up her chin. “We have no heirs left in Dorne under _current_ law, but I can sway the people. You will have our support and in return, I ask for Dorne when the war is won.”

Daenerys nodded in agreement and looked to Yara. “Aye, you have my support, but I too want claim to the Iron Islands when this is done.”

With a smile, Daenerys looked to Tyrion, Varys, and Selwyn. “Well it seems we have the entirety of the south and southwest accounted for. Even a couple of islands. Now we need the North, the Vale, and the Riverlands. I don’t imagine we’ll have much luck convincing the West to join our cause.” A few chuckles filled the room at the mention of the West.

Varys bowed slightly and looked to the room. “The Freys control the Riverlands and support the crown. The North and the Vale are in open rebellion against the crown. Regarding the West, I’ve recently heard some interesting rumors. The late King Tommen Baratheon released his _uncle_ , the Kingslayer, from the Kingsgaurd. The Kingslayer was granted his birthright as Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West. My sources tell me he was seen fleeing the city after Cersei’s foray with wildfire.”

Daenerys brows furrowed, but Tyrion spoke quickly. “Do your sources place my brother at the Rock? Truthfully, I can’t see him leaving Cersei. He has done her bidding since they were children. Even if he disagrees with her, I don’t believe he will break from her.”

Varys shook his head. “No one has seen him at the Rock. That is all my sources _have_ confirmed.”

“It’s no matter. Cersei can’t win this war with or without her brother. If there is tension between them, it only gives me stronger position. On the matter of the north and Vale, I do believe we have a solution for bringing them to us.”

Daenerys cast a knowing glance at Selwyn as she spoke the words. With a slight smile, the older lord shrugged. “I’ll do my best, but in truth I haven’t seen nor heard from my daughter in years.”

Olenna’s voice filled the room at Selwyn’s words. “I saw your daughter in King’s Landing. She is quite singular. Beat my grandson’s ass into the dirt, but from what I know of her, she is honor bound. She seemed rather set on finding the Stark girls.”

Varys huffed a laugh and nodded to Genna. “And she has… or at least, she has found one of them. She is currently serving as sworn sword to Lady Sansa in the North.”

Daenerys smiled and looked back to the map. “And that is why I sent a missive requesting audience with Lady Sansa and Lady Brienne. I’m hoping Lady Brienne’s ties to the Stormlands combined with Lady Sansa’s resentment towards Cersei will easily sway the North and Vale to us.”

Turning to Selwyn, Daenerys inquired as to the status of replies from his fellow vassals. “Have you heard from the last of them?”

Selwyn nodded. “Yes, your grace. The entirety of the Stormlands has confirmed support. I am happy to write to Brienne on your behalf as well should Lady Sansa decline your request. I warn you, my daughter can be a… stubborn child. I’m not certain she will do anything that Lady Sansa does not bid, but I will remind her of her duty to her house.”

Daenerys nodded and returned her attention to the board. “I do not wish to waste time holding back in securing the throne. The longer Cersei has to form a defense, the more risk I take. I’ve asked Tyrion to share his perspective today on a plan of attack, but I’m hoping some of you with more recent knowledge of King’s Landing can share insight.”

The group spent some time speaking on known weaknesses in the fortification of King’s Landing, Cersei’s recent maneuverings, and military strength. An attendant came into the room and handed Varys a note.

With a bow to Daenerys, the spider opened the missive with much interest. “Your Grace, in regards to the earlier topic concerning the whereabouts of the Kingslayer, I have some interesting information from my little birds in the north.”

Halting their current conversation, Daenerys looked to her advisor and nodded for him to proceed. “It seems he has found his way to the North. My sources in the North do not have access to the castle, but according to rumors among the soldiers, he has sought out Brienne of Tarth.”

Daenerys’ mind started working through the implications. _Could he be trying to sway the North and the Vale to Cersei? That would give them four of the seven kingdoms._

Giving voice to her thoughts, Daenerys looked around the room. “Is there a chance he could sway the North and Vale to Cersei? She would have most of the kingdoms support if that is the case.”

Tyrion’s brows furrowed in contemplation. “My sister tortured that poor girl in King’s Landing. Cersei and my father are responsible for the ruin of her family. I can’t imagine my brother would be so foolish as to think he could sway Sansa to Cersei’s cause.”

Selwyn sighed and looked to Tyrion. “The North and the Vale are in open rebellion, but from your reports on the battle for Winterfell, they don’t have much left in the North in way of military strength. The Vale is their only defense. Is it possible the young Stark may consider a truce for the sake of defense? If we’re colleting whispers of Westeros, I imagine Cersei has her own spies collecting word of Queen Daenerys’ return to Dragonstone.”

With a shake of his head, Tyrion considered the point, but spoke quickly. “Its not out of question, but sending my brother would make little sense, unless…”

Daenerys watched as the wheels turned in Tyrion’s mind. “…unless Cersei seeks to use Brienne for leverage just as we hope to. My brother and Lady Brienne have a history. From what little I could tell of their relationship when they returned to King’s Landing, she trusts him.”

Selwyn scoffed at the words. “I know the quality of my daughter! She would not align with someone the likes of the Kingslayer.”

The older lord’s words were laced with disdain and Daenerys could tell it grated on Tyrion. Daenerys and Tyrion had previously discussed the topic of Jaime Lannister while across the Narrow Sea. They had agreed to disagree on the topic of Jaime’s character, and it was the one connection in Westeros that worried Daenerys about her selected Hand.

He turned his back on the rest of his kin, but Tyrion wouldn’t turn on the Kingslayer. Tyrion upheld that his brother was a good man. Growing up, her brother only told her of the evil Kingslayer who betrayed his king for selfish gain.

Then Daenerys heard from those around her how mad her father was. Even kind and loyal ser Barristan backed the stories of her father’s madness. She heard from Tyrion that the Kingslayer was a good man. _Could it be possible there is more to the story?_

It was Yara who spoke from across the table and broke the tension between Selwyn and Tyrion. “Come now Lord Tarth, you’re an islander as am I. Don’t act as if you haven’t heard the rumors at port. They reached the Iron Islands and we hardly care for gossip of mainlanders.”

Selwyn’s eyes narrowed at the Greyjoy woman, his face reddening in irritation. “I do not give credence to foul rumors. I know the quality of my child and _that_ is not her.”

Daenerys listened with growing interest as the group spoke back and forth. “Forgive me, but I’ve been across the sea and without access to these island ports. What are the rumors concerning Lady Brienne and the Kingslayer?”

Yara cast a sly smile; her eyes briefly flitting to Selwyn. “They call her the Kingslayer’s Whore.”


	4. Houses (Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa observes Jaime and Brienne and makes some startling discoveries.

It was a curious thing having Jaime Lannister staying within her castle walls. The man had seemed untouchable just years ago when he led King Robert’s procession through the gates of Winterfell.

His reputation proceeded him, and he was nothing short of intimidating. He was unbearably handsome, cocky, confident, and sharp. A vicious snarl seemed to grace his lips throughout the day and he appeared put off than to be ‘stuck’ in the North.

Now he seemed an aged, vulnerable, crippled and fatigued lion who longed to be in Winterfell if only because that is where Brienne was.

Sansa had thought the man’s association with Brienne peculiar when Sansa first learned of their history. The female warrior didn’t shy away from confirming the origins of her sword nor did she have anything negative to say about the Kingslayer’s treatment towards her.

Brienne didn’t speak often of her time in the Riverlands and it was evident to Sansa that the journey was filled with painful memories. Sansa of course heard rumors too. _The Kingslayer’s Whore_.

For all the honor, goodness, and innocence that Brienne exuded, it was difficult for Sansa to reconcile that she was acquainted with a man such as Jaime Lannister.

Then Jaime Lannister showed up at her gates seeking shelter purely because Brienne was there. As Brienne stood in defense of the Kingslayer’s honor, Sansa listened with rapt interest, but also watched Jaime.

There was something in his eyes. A softness when he looked at Brienne. A longing. When Jaime returned to King’s Landing years ago, Sansa of course noticed he was short a hand, but she didn’t realize that he lost it protecting Brienne. Sansa’s eyes again flashed to Brienne’s sword belt.

On closer inspection, it was adorned not only with starbursts, but lion heads. _Something tells me this outfit and sword meant more to Jaime than Brienne realizes._

Then of course there was the minor detail that Jaime wanted little more than to simply be wherever Brienne was. _Mayhap he should have brought a damn cloak while he was at it_.

When Sansa posed her question to Jaime in her solar, she knew he wouldn’t answer. She was, as usual, correct. Jaime eyed her warily and moved out from the room; running off like a lovesick pup after Brienne.

Over the next few days, Sansa watched their interactions closely. Jaime spent most of his time trying to needle Brienne just as a young boy would do to a girl he was smitten with. Sansa only recognize the behavior because Robb used to do the same thing to the butcher’s daughter who he later admitted to having a crush on.

As much as Sansa wanted nothing more than to exile the crippled lion from Winterfell, a small part of her enjoyed this minor victory over Cersei. _Gods. If Cersei could see her brother-lover now. Pining away over my sworn sword._

A greater part of Sansa found herself falling for the romance of it all. Sansa wore a cold mask of indifference, but inside the little girl she had locked away years ago was screaming to get out. She wanted to believe in love and shining knights in armor coming to rescue the maiden fair.

She also wanted Brienne to find acceptance and love. Sansa observed the way the men looked at Brienne. They hardly concealed their disgust and Sansa knew Brienne noticed it too. The older woman was prone to averting her eyes and hunching in on herself when scrutinized by others.

On rare occasion, Sansa was able to extract some personal information from Brienne. Sansa knew that Brienne was an only child after losing her siblings. Lord Tarth had tried and failed to betroth Brienne on three occasions. Lastly, Sansa knew that Brienne’s septa was abusive.

Brienne never went into much detail about her septa, but some past experiences came out slowly in conversation. As quick as details slipped out, Sansa saw Brienne’s defensive walls go back up. Her sworn sword was not a woman to talk about her emotions or personal wants and desires.

Since Jaime arrived at Winterfell and Sansa began to learn more of their time together, Sansa grew bold and summoned Brienne to her study the day prior.

“I hope you understand that I’ve extended guest right to Ser Jaime due to your word of his honor. I would like to understand the quality of the man staying in my castle walls. Tell me more about your time as captives. You say he saved you from rape?”

Brienne swallowed thickly and nodded. “Yes, my lady.”

Sansa patted the seat next to her in front of the fire. She continued to focus on her needlework but asked more questions of Brienne. “I’ve heard men call you Kingslayer’s Whore in passing. Was it from that time in captivity together?”

As Brienne sat down, she looked around nervously. “No, my lady. The men holding us only used the term to insult him.” Sansa stopped her needlework and looked into the woman’s eyes. “To insult _him_?”

Brienne averted her eyes and Sansa watched as her sworn sword’s shoulders rolled in slightly. Placing a light touch to Brienne’s arms, Sansa met her eyes. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Brienne. I only mean to understand what happened to you while carrying out my mother’s orders.”

Sansa listened as Brienne told of the journey towards King’s Landing. The Stark men. The farmer. The battle on the bridge. The Bolton men.

Sansa listened as Brienne spoke of sapphires, fevers, and bear pits.

By the end of it, Sansa found herself in shock. Of course, Brienne being as she was tried to downplay the tale at every turn. She presented the events in matter-of-fact tone and it was almost laughable how oblivious she was to Jaime’s affection for her.

_He jumped into a bear pit for her!? This puts the songs and childhood stories to shame._

Now as Sansa looked at Jaime and Brienne from the battlements of Winterfell, she sighed at the pathetic display. Jaime trailed after Brienne, trying to goad a reaction from her in the training yard. Like a hound bringing its master a stick to play fetch, he wouldn’t give up until he got what he wanted.

Finally, he said something that caught Brienne’s ire. Sansa watched as her sworn sword rounded on him; her face flaming red with indignation. There it was. The spark in Jaime’s eye. He got what he wanted.

They squabbled for a moment before Sansa observed Tormund approaching in the distance. _Well this will be interesting_. Sansa quickly made her way down the battlements to get a closer look. She made it just outside the gates to see Tormund reach them.

“Is he givin’ ya trouble?” Brienne’s wildling admirer raised an appraising brow at Jaime. Tormund squared off his shoulders in a protective posture as he glared menacingly at the Kingslayer.

“No, Tormund. We’re fine, thank you.” At Brienne’s words, Tormund looked back to Brienne. He looked her up and down lasciviously in the manner that always made Sansa’s skin crawl. _Gods, poor Brienne. How does she put up with Tormund so politely?_

Then Sansa got the reaction she was waiting for. Jaime’s eyes flashed with a jealous rage when he realized Tormund’s interest in Brienne.

“Yes, excuse me, but we were having a conversation here. And you are?” The vicious smile that Sansa had associated with two-handed Jaime flashed across his face. Jaime’s chin tilted up as he looked down his nose at the wildling.

Jaime certainly had the height advantage over the wildling. He was almost Brienne’s height which was well taller than most men. What Jaime lacked was bulk compared to Tormund. Sansa mused that it would likely take one blow from the wildling to knock Jaime back to King’s Landing.

“Name’s Tormund Giantsbane. And who the fuck are ya? Why are ya botherin’ m’lday.”

Brienne went to interject, but Jaime took a step forward, placing his body between Tormund and Brienne.

“I’m Jaime Lannister. Last I checked this was Brienne of Tarth. Not Brienne of Giantswhatever. Something tells me you’re not familiar with the great houses of Westeros.” _Oh, here we go. Golden Lion indeed. Idiot. This will NOT impress Brienne._

And it didn’t. Brienne rolled her eyes and looked to Jaime as if had just asked Tormund to translate high valyrian.

“Great houses? Like this here castle? Ya. I seen ‘em.”

Jaime scoffed and looked to Brienne as if to say _‘Where did you find this guy?’_. “That’s adorable. Truly. The great houses, or ruling families rather, are quite well-known south of the wall. My house is one of them. Care to know what my house sigil is?”

“No.”

“Good. I’ll explain since you’re interested. Lions. Now do you see this sword? Do you see this belt?” Jaime pointed to the sword belt and sword sitting at Brienne’s armorless hips. Those are lion heads. I’m fairly certain she is not _your_ lady.”

Brienne scoffed at Jaime and shoved his arm. “Excuse me!? What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

Jaime fully faced Brienne; exasperation writ on his face. “What did he mean? _His_ lady?”

Tormund looked between them confused, but before he could respond, a soldier shouted from atop the battlements. “Riders approaching!”

Moving into the yard, Sansa could see the approaching figures of Little Finger, several knights of the Vale, and Ned Umber. Sansa watched as Little Finger’s eyes landed on Jaime. _Shit_.

As he came to a stop and dismounted his horse, Little Finger’s eyes lingered on Jaime. Sansa flitted her eyes to Jaime and Brienne; neither of whom look pleased to see Baelish.

“Lady Sansa. I’ve escorted young Ned Umber here as requested. There is much I wish to discuss with you inside.”

Sansa looked to Brienne who took a few steps towards them. With a halting hand, Sansa nodded to Brienne before turning back to Little Finger. “I’ll be with you in a moment Lord Baelish.”

Walking to Brienne, she spoke quietly to her sworn sword, who had yet to remove her concentration on Little Finger. Jaime seemed equally unimpressed with the man’s presence. “I need you to find Jon and let him know Lord Umber is here. Jon will want a meeting in the great hall with any available commanders here.”

Brienne nodded in understanding and walked off the carry out Sansa’s orders. Having lost interest, Tormund stomped off to return to his group of wildlings in the yard. Looking to Jaime, Sansa narrowed her eyes.

“Did you know Tormund has an affinity for bears. I wonder if its his house sigil? Which animal do you suppose would win a fight? A lion… or a bear? Do try to stay out of trouble until Brienne returns.”

Sansa didn’t wait to see Jaime’s jaw go slack. She instead turned on heel and marched into the castle.

Later that day, Sansa called Brienne into her study. Sansa reflected on the events of the afternoon and sat back in her chair with a heavy sigh. Jon had called on young Ned Umber to discuss preparations for a stand against the dead.

It wasn’t that Sansa didn’t believe Jon about the dead, although she had to admit it sounded more like one of Nan’s stories meant to keep them in line. Sansa’s larger issue was Jon’s ignoring the threat to the south.

They could only live in open rebellion for so long before Cersei came for them. Loathe as she was to admit it, Sansa would need Jaime’s army.

The northern forces had been depleted over the years between Robb’s war and then the battle with Ramsay. The Vale was all they head for defense and while they were strong fighters, they also had to protect their kingdom.

Looking down at the missive before her, Sansa arched a brow as she read through it again. A knock came at the door and Sansa bid the visitor enter. The door swung open to reveal Brienne, looking every bit as tired as Sansa felt.

“Lady Brienne. Please, come in.”

Sansa watched as her sworn sword moved into the room and shut the door. “I’ve received a missive from an unexpected source. It seems a Targaryen has moved across the sea with three fully grown dragons, an army of 100,000 strong, and my former husband.”

Sliding the missive to Brienne, she watched as her sworn sword read through the letter from Tyrion. Sansa when the exact moment Brienne got to the part about her father.

“…Queen Daenerys has also explicitly requested the presence of your sworn sword, Lady Brienne. Both the Queen and her father, Lord Selwyn Tarth, have much to discuss with her. I would much appreciate if you would bring her on your journey to Dragonstone…”

Brienne finished the letter and handed it back to Sansa. With a quirked brow, Sansa studied her sworn sword. “When was the last time you wrote to your father?”

With a slight hesitation, Brienne met Sansa’s eyes. “I haven’t written him. I last spoke to him when I left for Reny’s camp.”

Sansa felt her lips part in surprise at the words. “Then how do they know you’re here?”

Brienne shrugged. “I’m not certain, my lady.”

_Spies. If someone is reporting on me to Daenerys, surely Cersei has spies as well._

With a heavy sigh, Sansa stood from her chair. “If rumors of activity around Winterfell have reached her, they have certainly reached Cersei. Particularly where it concerns your new _squire_.”

Sansa looked back to the missive. “I don’t know why she hasn’t asked for Jon. If she knows you’re my sworn sword, surely she knows the vassals have declared Jon king. Do you have any idea why Daenerys and your father are together? Why they would want to speak with you?”

Sansa watched as Brienne nervously looked to the floor and fidgeted with the pommel of her sword. One thing Sansa enjoyed about Brienne was her inability to lie. “I could venture a guess or two.”

Grabbing Brienne’s arm, Sansa captured her sworn sword’s attention. “I need to know why a woman who proclaims herself rightful heir to the throne wants to speak with you and why your father is already there.”

“My lady, I… it is the very reason I have not written my father. He asked me not to disclose certain _things_. I swear to you that my priority is your protection and I would not let anything interfere with that.”

Sansa felt her body tense. _What is she keeping from me?_

“Would this information put you in danger?” Sansa watched Brienne consider the question; her eyes already giving Sansa the answer. “Yes, my lady.”

“If it puts you in danger, it puts me in danger. I need to know why we are being summoned by this woman.” Sansa tried to keep her composure, but between Little Finger’s conversation earlier and Jon’s insistence that the dead were the only threat, Sansa was ready to snap.

Brienne’s eyes widened in understanding. “I’m sorry. I never considered that. I’ll tell you what I know, but I just ask that you not tell anyone else. Please. For my father’s safety and my people.”

Sansa nodded in agreement and kept her eyes fixed on Brienne.

“My mother was the Aerys’ cousin. A bastard born of Rhaelle Targaryen and Daeron Targaryen sent to live on Tarth. Aemma Storm. My father, mother, and Queen Rhaella were close growing up at court. The Targaryens knew of my mother’s lineage, but the Baratheons did not. Aegon wed Rhaelle, my grandmother, to Ormund Baratheon after she gave birth in secret.”

Sansa’s brows furrowed as she considered the words. “Forgive me, Brienne. My history is a bit fuzzy, but wasn’t it rumored that Prince Daeron was the lover of a well-known knight?”

With a sigh, Brienne nodded. “Yes. Aegon tried to make a match for him, but Daeron refused after his siblings broke their betrothals. The rumor was he lay with his sister to see if he could _tolerate_ a match with a noble woman. Needless to say, Ser Jeremy was more his type.”

 _Gods. Only Tagaryens would commit incest to confirm their sexuality_. “How would Daenerys know about you?”

Brienne bit her lip and looked to the letter. “My father led the effort to get Daenerys and her brother out of Westeros during Robert’s Rebellion. He helped fund them in Essos. Robert didn’t know my mother’s lineage or he would have killed her… and me. Of course, there is the matter of Tarth being a vassal to Storm’s End, so there was that… complication. My father made me swear to deny knowledge of my mother’s lineage and not write him. He feared if the day came that the Targaryens came back across the sea, I would be in danger by association.”

 _This has to be a jape. My sworn sword is a secret Targaryen. Wait… my sworn sword is a secret Targaryen and her kin is now in Westeros with a large army and dragons_. “Brienne, I think we should go speak with them.”


	5. Cunning (Baelish)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baelish hears some information and begins plotting.

When he was a boy, he wanted to be king. He wanted a beautiful queen on his arm and adoring citizens. He wanted to lead with his mind, not by a sword.

Baelish was smart. He knew what he was and what he wasn’t. He was never to be a knight. Never to be a man whose physical prowess intimidated others. Baelish could beat them in other ways. He could find his way to the top and do away with all those who mocked him and doubted him.

He could take down the men who used their size and strength to threaten him. Those men didn’t have his intellect. They would always be steps behind.

Then he met Catelyn Stark and decided he simply wanted to be with her. To _have_ her. As a foster of Lord Hoster, young Petyr tried to win Cat over with his wit and charm. The fast became friends and he fantasized about building a life with her. Ruling together from Riverrun.

He remembered the day he realized Catelyn would never be his. The bloody Stark boy was to be hers. Watching from the peephole in the study at Riverrun, Baelish felt his blood boil as he listened to Lord Hoster tell Catelyn of the details.

 _She was supposed to be mine_. Baelish resolved that if he couldn’t have Cat, he would find his way to the top. _Then she’ll want me. When I’m king, she’ll leave that vapid Stark_.

When Aerys burned Brandon Stark and his lord father in their armor, Petyr inwardly rejoiced and sought to ask for Cat’s hand, but her father already had another match. Ned Stark.

Petyr watched from the sidelines as love walked away. He vowed to never allow a woman to dampen his ambitions again. Using his cunning, Petyr worked his way into the service of the crown. By day, he was a purveyor of the flesh. By night, he had near as many ears in the city as the spider himself.

It was easier to treat a woman like a whore than take her in heart. He had learned that from his unrequited love of Catelyn Stark. As he worked his way up the social ladder, Petyr embraced his nickname, Little Finger. To many, it was used to mock his meager beginning and stature. To Baelish, it represented how far he had climbed.

“Chaos is a ladder” he would say, and King’s Landing was the epitome chaos. Petyr thrived in it. He created wars among his enemies and rivals for power. His plot against Lord Arryn played out as he intended; a war between the Lannisters and Starks.

Petyr thrilled in watching Cat’s precious Ned nearly fall to the Kingslayer in the streets of King’s Landing. Two men with pure brawn and no cunning. It amused Little Finger to watch them play into his game.

Everything was playing out perfectly. _Let the lions and wolves kill each other off_. He took pleasure in Ned’s head severing from his neck. He took pleasure in Robb marching the North to the south. Then he saw her. _Sansa Stark_.

Old habit flooded back, and Petyr wanted it all. The pretty queen and the crown. So he plotted and planted seeds. Invented tales and played both sides. Now standing in the room next to Sansa’s study, he was dealt a harsh reminder of years past.

_You can’t have both. You can’t have the crown and the queen. So, which is it?_

Like Riverrun, Petyr knew that the study had a peephole from the adjourning room. He had been using it for some time to spy on Sansa. At times to obtain information; his mind’s pleasure. At other times to seek a different kind of pleasure; that of the flesh. He would watch her. A younger, stronger Catelyn.

He knew it was wrong to many, but matches had been made at wider age gaps. In that moment however, Petyr knew she was gone. _She’s to side with the Targaryen. She will cast me aside as her mother did_.

Baelish knew what he had to do. He had to switch sides again; back to Cersei. Cersei was more desperate. Cersei was losing the warn and she didn’t realize it. Cersei was more likely to heed his words. Cersei also needed him. Needed the Vale. 

Little Finger’s mind began to work as his mouth twisted into a smile. He watched as Sansa and her monstrous sworn sword left the room. I’ll help Cersei secure her throne. I’ll win a senior place back in court. Then I’ll find a way to take it all from the lone lioness.

Baelish’s mind wandered to the Kingslayer. _How perfect. Another pawn and a quarrel in the lion’s den. I’ll use that too_.

When Sansa approached Baelish the next day, giving him some absurd excuse to send him to the Vale when he knew she was secreting off to Dragonstone, he played along. If anything, he was pleased her orders would put him right where he needed to be. Right where the bulk of the Vale’s forces were.

From the events and whispers around Westeros, he knew the dragon queen had support in Dorne and the Reach. _I’ll bring Cersei the destruction of the Reach and the head of Lady Olenna. Then I’ll bring her word of the dragon queen’s forces. Word of the secret Targaryen cow._

Baelish walked the battlements after his meeting with Sansa. It was midday and his mind was hard at work piecing together this new puzzle. To the side, he saw a group sparring; Brienne, Jaime, and Pod.

Studying them for a moment, he watched as Brienne trained her squire; correcting his movement and stance. Jaime leaned against the castle wall with an affectionate smile on his face aimed at the warrior woman.

Baelish had spent the prior night’s dinner watching as well. The Kingslayer stared at Sansa’s sworn sword with an expression Petyr was all too familiar with. Baelish had worked in brothels long enough to know the difference between a look of lust and a look of love.

The way the Kingslayer looked at Sansa’s sworn sword was love. Jaime’s eyes were soft and his lips parted as he stared at her with longing in his eyes. He chuckled warmly throughout their conversation and his hand fidgeted nervously at his side.

By comparison, the way the wildling looked at Sansa’s sworn sword was lust. Tormund’s eyebrows rose in a predatory manner. His eyes looking her up and down as his tongue licking his lips wantonly.

It was almost comical to Baelish how differently the two men looked at her. The woman seemed ignorant to the Kingslayer’s pining which made this all the more delicious for Petyr.

Standing on the battlements, Baelish made his way down the steps and out into the yard. By the time he made his way outside, the Kingslayer was pestering Brienne about something; earning a pointed glare from Sansa’s sworn sword.

At his approach, the kingslayer straightened and turned to face him more fully. “Ser Jaime. I must say, it was quite the surprise to see you here yesterday. What brings you north from the capital?”

“I could ask the same of you. The timing of your absence following King Joffrey’s death was most curious.” Baelish smiled inwardly at the way the Kingslayer’s lips curled in disgust.

“I was hardly the only one. Lady Brienne here was gone as well. Do you mean to imply something by that as well?” Jaime took a menacing step forward.

“I’m well aware of where Lady Brienne was. She had not fled anywhere.” At Jaime’s reply, Baelish felt his lips cur in victory.

“I don’t doubt you knew exactly where she was. That is quite the sword and armor by the way. A very thoughtful sendoff gift. Tell me, what does your _sister_ think of your generosity?”

From behind them, Baelish noticed Pod and Brienne stop the sparring match. Brienne took steps towards them as Jaime snarled at him.

“You will keep Brienne’s name out of your mouth, or I will shove my sword into it.” Baelish smiled knowingly. _Careful Kingslayer. I will use this love against you._

“Temper, temper. I heard the last time you ran your mouth, it cost you a hand.” Little Finger felt good like this. Using his words to cut deeper than Jaime’s sword. He felt powerful. He could take down the mighty Kingslayer with little more than the sharp edge of his tongue.

_Yes, it would seem the Kingslayer has found himself a new blonde to occupy his heart. This will make for a very interesting conversation with Cersei._

Before Baelish could reply, Brienne reached them. “Lord Baelish. Do you need something?”

Jaime took a protective step in front of the woman before Baelish could respond.

“No, Lady Brienne. I have seen enough.” Baelish flashed a sly grin at Jaime before turning and walking back to the castle.

_A Targaryen bastard who has stolen the heart of the Kingslayer. Cersei will definitely reward me well for this insight._


	6. Family (Selwyn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selwyn, Daenerys, and Tyrion speak as word from Sansa arrives

While Olenna, Yara, and Ellaria had left Dragonstone days prior, Selwyn lingered to await Sansa’s reply to Daenerys request. He worried for his island and his daughter in the war to come. _Gods I had hoped to keep Brienne away from all this. Now she is at the storm’s epicenter._

Selwyn sat back in his chair, staring into the flames flickering in the hearth of his room. A knock came out the door and he bid the visitor enter. Looking to his left, Selwyn observed Daenerys and Tyrion move into the room. Selwyn stood from his chair and bowed respectfully. “Your Grace. Lord Hand.”

Daenerys offered a warm smile and moved to sit opposite the older lord. “Please, its just us here. Call me Daenerys.”

With a huff of laughter and a warm smile, Selwyn inclined his head. As Tyrion and Daenerys settled in beside him, Selwyn twirled the stem of his wine cup. His brows furrowed as he observed Tyrion and Daenerys exchange a look before the dwarf spoke.

“We’ve heard from Lady Sansa. She will come to speak with us and indicated that she will have left Winterfell by the time the raven reached us. Brienne is with her… as is my brother and Brienne’s squire.”

Selwyn flinched at the words. “Your brother?” His eyes flitted to Daenerys whose violet hues looked just as displeased as Selwyn felt. Tyrion sucked in a deep breath and nodded.

“Yes, it would seem Varys’ sources were correct. My brother left Cersei and moved North. Here is the missive.”

Tyrion untucked the folded missive from his pocket and passed it to Selwyn. The older lord read it through narrowed eyes.

_My former husband,_

_It pleases me to hear that you are well and back in Westeros. I must say that I am surprised by the circumstances in which you return, but I will agree to treating with your queen. At her request, I will bring Lady Brienne and her squire, Podrick Payne._

_By the time you receive this letter, we will have departed Winterfell._

_I will warn you that there will be another with us, although he is equally hesitant to join as I’m certain your queen will be to have him. My former goodbrother travels with us. He has abandoned Cersei and has no desire to support her after her actions in King’s Landing._

_Ser Jaime will not march against Cersei, but has promised the West in defense of the North should the need arise. He is currently with us as a guest of Lady Brienne. I believe, my dear ex-husband, we have some interesting things to discuss on that topic._

_I look forward to seeing you again._

_Yours,_

_Sansa_

_By the seven what does that last bit mean!?_ With a quick glance at Tyrion, Selwyn could see the man trying to suppress a smile.

“Well, I suppose I’ll be staying longer if you don’t mind. I should like to see my daughter and understand where her path has taken her all these years. I’m particularly keen to understand what she is doing with the Kingslayer as her _guest_.”

Daenerys sighed and looked to Tyrion. “I can’t say that I’m pleased to hear my father’s killer is joining them. I might need someone to remind of these guest right curtsies in Westeros.”

Selwyn huffed a sarcastic laugh. “Don’t ask the Lannisters.”

The tension hung heavy in the room as Tyrion glared at Selwyn. “Lord Tarth, I can understand your distaste for my sister and father. I can assure you that I share in that distaste. The rest of my family however is decent. They would not violate guest right, nor would they commit the acts my father and sister have taken without second thought.”

“You do realize that your brother killed his king? The very man he was sworn to protect. I know Aerys was mad, but I question your brother’s intentions. I could condone him doing so to save innocents from Aerys’ madness, but it is all too convenient that your father stood at the city gates when your brother’s sword entered Aerys’ back.”

As he spoke, Daenerys nodded in agreement and cast a sideways glance at Tyrion.

As if summoning the courage of a man three times his size, Tyrion tilted his chin up and spoke commandingly to Selwyn. “None of us were there that day. My brother always refused to speak of his time as a member of Aerys’ Kingsguard, but I could tell those memories haunted him. I believe they still do. He is a good man. Were it not for him, I would not have survived my childhood. He saved me in many ways. He was the only one who didn’t treat me like a monster. Please, just hear him out. Give him a chance.”

With a resigned sigh, Selwyn looked to the flames. _Aerys was mad. I hated him myself. Even if the boy was well intentioned in slaying his king, he still has ghastly behaviors. He slept with his own damn sister!_

Selwyn looked to Daenerys who also seemed lost in thought. She looked between Selwyn and Tyrion, a resigned look on her face. “I will grant him private audience and hear him out. If I do not feel his intentions were just, I will bid him leave this island or risk the wrath of my dragons.”

Tyrion nodded in understanding and bit his lip. “He just needs the chance. No one has ever given him one.”

“Tell me about him. Help me understand why you see good in him when all I’ve heard is his dishonor.” Daenerys’ words surprised Selwyn. All of Westeros hated the Kingslayer for what he did to her father. Yet here she sat, trying to understand the man. Selwyn couldn’t suppress the huff of laughter that escaped his lips.

Daenerys gave him an odd look to which Selwyn shook his head. “Apologies. You just remind me so much of your mother. She preferred to see the good in others. Gave them a chance where your father was quick to burn them where they stood.”

A small smile flitted across the young queen’s features. “Can you tell me about her?”

Selwyn nodded and hummed. “She was an amazing woman. Certainly, no sign of madness in her. Funny enough, she was named after my wife’s mother; only a slight variation. Rhaella and Rhealle.”

For a moment, Selwyn became lost in thought. “Your mother and I were born the same year. It was only natural that we grew up together. My family visited King’s Landing often as our ties were close. King Aegon was close friends with my grandfather, Ser Duncan the Tall.”

At his words, Tyrion’s eyes flashed. “You’re a descendant of Ser Duncan!?”

Daenerys’ brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m sorry, but who?”

Selwyn and Tyrion shot her an incredulous look before laughing. Tyrion spoke quickly. “He’s one of the greatest knights who ever lived! The legends say he was a mountain of a man. I imagine he rivaled the size of Ser Gregor or… well… Lord Tarth here.”

Selwyn chuckled at Tyrion’s enthusiasm. “I’ve heard that I’m short by comparison or so my father told me.”

Tyrion smiled widely and turned back to Daenerys. “Jaime and I used to read of Ser Duncan and Prince Aegon’s adventures as children. Dunk and Egg! Ser Duncan is one of the reasons Jaime and I wanted to be knights! Well… of course I lacked the stature for it, but Jaime would always let me beat him in our imaginary fights.”

Tyrion chuckled, but his mirth quickly died. “Apologies. I got carried away with myself. I know my brother is not a pleasant topic for either of you.”

Selwyn felt a sympathy for the young Lannister. “You know, we have Ser Duncan’s shield at Evenfall on Tarth. Mayhap you can see it someday.”

Tyrion’s eyes lit up at the prospect. “I would very much enjoy that.”

Turning back to Daenerys, Selwyn continued. “So as you can tell, our families were close. My parents would take me to King’s Landing for frequent trips to see your kin, their friends. Rhaella and I were always close given our age. My parents also brought Aemma so your kin could see her. Of course, Aemma played the proper part of a Storm. No one could let on to her true lineage, so my parents positioned her to court as a foster.”

Daenerys smiled as Selwyn pressed on. “The three of us were inseparable. We played often in the gardens. I the gallant knight rescuing them from danger. Your mother and my Aemma the maidens fair. I promised to always protect them no matter what.”

Selwyn’s smile fell at the words. He had lost them both and, in some way, failed them both. He failed to stop Aerys from hurting Rhaella. He failed Aemma by not keeping Galladon safe in her absence.

With a sad sigh, Selwyn looked to Daenerys. “Rhaella fell in love with a knight as she grew, but he was deemed to low birth for her. I felt terribly for her as she had to watch love walk away while I had Aemma. Your grandfather forced the marriage on your parents. Rhaella didn’t want to wed Aerys. She knew of his madness. She feared him. I feared for her.”

Daenerys face fell at his words. She nodded in understanding. “I wish I could have been there for your mother. I made a promise to her and Aemma that I would keep all you children safe. I failed her and my own wife. Only one of my four lives and I don’t even know how Brienne has been. I could do little to protect you and your brothers.”

At his words, Daenerys reached her hand out to grab Selwyn’s arm. “You did save me. I will never forget that. I think you’re being unfair to yourself regarding your children too. You said the other night that the twins died in the cradle. That Galladon was lost to the sea. That wasn’t your fault, but your daughter lives. My kin.”

Selwyn patted her dainty hand and smiled warmly. Looking to Tyrion, he cocked a brow. “Your mother was one of Rhaella’s ladies in waiting.”

Tyrion perked up at that. “Joanna? My mother? You knew her?”

With a laugh, Selwyn nodded. “Who didn’t know the Lannisters. They made their presence know at court. Your mother was a wonderful woman though. Such a shame she passed. Tywin wasn’t as much of a shit when she was alive. What little good was in him seemed to die out when Joanna passed.”

“My aunt always told me that my mother was the best of them.”

Selwyn quirked a brow. “Genna, correct? I remember her. A force of a woman, but unlike Tywin she seemed decent.”

Tyrion laughed. “Yes. Genna is a good woman. She practically raised us after my mother passed. Well… she would say that she raised me and Jaime. She wanted nothing to do with Cersei. She could tell from the beginning what a cunt my sister was.”

Daenerys and Selwyn chuckled at Tyrion’s words. Standing from his seat, the youngest Lannister bowed. “Well, I best retire for the evening. I have a war strategy to think on!”

As Tyrion exited the room, Daenerys took a deep breath and met Selwyn’s eyes. “There is something I need to speak with you about. A concern Tyrion raised that warrants discussion.”

With furrowed brows, Selwyn tilted his head at the woman. Daenerys smiled tightly and began. “I was married before and lost a child in the womb. A misguided pact with a witch was my downfall. She cursed me. Cursed my womb. I fear that I can’t produce an heir and Tyrion worries that this could become an issue once I claim the throne.”

Selwyn took in her words but failed to understand where she was going with this. “I would seek to name Brienne my successor should I die unexpectedly or be unable to produce an heir of my own. I don’t want another war to befall Westeros if I don’t consider this beforehand. Tyrion insists on planning for succession. I need your help with Brienne on the matter. I understand she is unwed.”

 _Seven help me_. “Daenerys, I have tried to betroth my daughter. Three times I found her a match and three times it failed.”

“Why is that?” The young queen’s brows knitted in confusion.

“My daughter is… different. You’ll understand when you meet her. I love her dearly, but she is not a pretty woman. She has my size and the awkwardness that comes with it.”

Daenerys considered his words but countered. “As heir to the throne, surely we can find her a match.”

_An island wasn’t enough. Would the throne be?_

“I would love to see my daughter happily married off. I don’t want her married to someone who only seeks the throne. That would be dangerous to you and her. We can try to find her a match but lets not announce her as your heir until we do. I don’t want either of you in danger.”

Daenerys nodded. “I have some good men with me. Men who I don’t believe would bring harm to me or Brienne. Let me see if they would consider a match.”

Selwyn furrowed his brows. “I’ve heard about the Unsullied. I’m not certain they would accomplish what is required of an heir.”

With a slight chuckle, Daenerys met the older lord’s eyes. “No, my Unsullied were not top of mind. I have two Dothraki leaders who might appeal to her. They are quite tall and strong; excellent fighters. They speak the common tongue and are quite taken with Targaryen blood. It might be worth an introduction at the least.”

Selwyn chuckled at the idea. _Gods please tell me she is kidding. Dothraki. What is next? Wildlings?_

“I made a deal with Brienne some years ago after the third broken betrothal that I would not force a match with a man whom she could not best with a sword. Lets hope they are good fighters or they won’t even be an option.”

Daenerys smiled and nodded. “Well I take no offense if she prefers a Westerosi, but lets see what she says.”


	7. Sparring (Brienne)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne, Jaime, Sansa, and Pod make their way to King's Harbor.

They had been on the road to White Harbor for almost a week. When they could stay at inns, they did, but that night as the last rays of the sun set in the west, they were forced to make camp a day’s ride from White Harbor.

“Gods, truly. Another night on the fucking ground.” Jaime’s cantankerous voice cut through the crisp, northern air like valyrian steel through flesh.

“You are such a princess. You know that don’t you?” Brienne shot Jaime an incredulous look as she began to gather wood for their campfire.

“Oh please. Remember the Riverlands? How many fucking nights I had to sleep on rain sodden ground all because you didn’t want to risk being seen, but you were so eager to let that _delightful_ farmer walk right by.”

At Jaime’s words, Brienne looked back to him as he collected a pile of firewood in his arms.

“Do not start with me on that! If you hadn’t stolen my sword, that _delightful_ farmer wouldn’t have found us with Locke’s men at his heels.”

The two glared at one another as Pod and Sansa could do little more than roll their eyes as they stood off to the side.

“They were on horseback. They would have caught up either way.” Jaime huffed a laugh as he said the words and Brienne felt her face flame with frustration.

“Yes, you’re correct of course. They would have caught up quite easily since you had to stop to piss on damn near every tree that we came across. Gods I didn’t think a person could make so much water in such a short period of time.”

Jaime chuckled at her. “Well mayhap I enjoyed stopping if for no other reason than to converse with the trees. They were far more enjoyable company than you were.”

 _Infuriating ass and his stupid, handsome face. I will run him through with my sword_. Brienne rounded on Jaime and threw her pile of sticks towards Pod without looking to the young squire.

“You know something Lannister, if the company of trees is so much more enjoyable than me, why not head into the Wolfswood or the Kingswood and have at it? You’ll find no shortage of trees there.”

Brienne glared as she watched Jaime bite back a laugh. _Why does he enjoy tormenting me so!?_ “Well, I don’t have to crane my neck _quite_ as much talking to you as I do the trees. With all this time spent sleeping on the ground, I’m already sore enough as it is.”

“If the only reason you prefer the company of me to the trees is that it gives you less of a neck cramp, than I assure you that I can correct for that. Your delicate little neck won’t have to worry about holding up that thick, vacant skull of yours when I take it off!” Unsheathing her sword, Brienne narrowed her eyes daringly at him.

“Oh gods, not again.” Pod huffed as he set to the task of starting a fire. 

“I find if I hum, it almost drowns them out.” Sansa smiled wolfishly to Pod as she helped with the kindling.

A wide smile spread across Jaime’s face as he threw his pile of wood in the direction of Pod and unsheathed his sword.

Brienne could hear Sansa and Pod groan in irritation, but she was focused on the man in front of her.

They raised their swords into position and began to circle on another. With a twist of his wrist, Jaime swung his sword at Brienne. She easily deflected it and they began to strike and parry; moving around one another with little regard for their surroundings.

“What did I tell you about grimacing? Gives away the game.” Jaime smiled teasingly as he lunged at her again.

With a quick deflection and counter, Brienne gritted her teeth. “And when will you learn to focus on the match rather than mocking me.” Spinning around, her blade swung out and blocked Jaime’s blow before placing a quick counter to his chest.

Holding the sword at Jaime’s chest in victory, Brienne smirked as he dropped his sword and raised his hands in surrender. 

Brienne returned her sword to her belt. Turning to leave, she was surprised to find herself falling backwards. Jaime had swung his leg out to trip her and grabbed her. With his right arm wrapped around her waist and her back arched awkwardly, Brienne found his dagger at her neck.

Jaime smiled and looked into her eyes. “I didn’t say yield.” 

Not to be outdone, Brienne quickly spun out of his arm, dropping to the ground and kicking him behind the knee. Jaime fell to the ground and Brienne pinned his left wrist down which held the dagger firmly. Pulling her own dagger from her hip, she placed it to his neck while hoovering over him.

“Do you yield now?”

A strange look flashed across Jaime’s face. Then fear. “Look out!”

Brienne turned her head to see what threat was behind her when she felt Jaime shove her backwards to the ground. He straddled her hips and put his dagger back at her neck.

A sharp pain cut through Brienne’s left hand as she reached out for purchase. In her effort to brace her fall, her palm caught the edge of Widow’s Wail. “Ahhh!”

Jaime realized what had happened and jumped off her. “Oh Gods! Brienne! I’m so sorry!”

Brienne rolled to her stomach before sitting back on her knees, clutching her hand in pain. She quickly glanced at her hand and saw the blood pooling out of it. _Fuck! Seven hells that hurts._

She felt Jaime’s presence immediately at her side as he grabbed for her hand. “Oh shit. Brienne, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Let me see.”

“What’s happened!?” Sansa’s voice called out from behind Brienne’s back. As Jaime took Brienne’s hand, it trembled with pain.

Jaime gasped at the sight of her sliced palm. The cut ran diagonally from her pinky to the base of her thumb. Brienne pulled her hand back, balling it into a fist.

Closing her eyes, Brienne looked up towards the sky and reprimanded herself for letting Jaime goad her into such childish behavior. Brienne heard ruffling fabric and then a tearing sound.

Looking down, Brienne saw Jaime’s jerkin on the ground as he tore at his tunic with the dagger. He took a long strip from the bottom of his tunic and wrapped it tightly around her hand. “Fucking hells. We’ll need to stich it if the bleeding doesn’t stop.”

Brienne felt Sansa move to her side and gasp at the sight of the blood soaking through the tunic wrapped. “Gods! Did you stab her!?”

“No! It was an accident. I was being an idiot and she sliced her hand on my fallen sword.”

Pod’s feet rapidly approached from behind Brienne. “My lady! Your hand is bleeding!”

“Yes, thank you Pod! As always your observational skills are second to none.” Brienne rolled her eyes but could do little more than hold the blood-soaked tunic firm to her palm.

Sansa huffed in anger as she reached for Brienne’s hand. “She needs a maester.”

Pod put a hand on Brienne’s back as he leaned over her shoulder to appraise the wound. “But my lady, we’re in the middle of the woods.”

“Oh, do shut up Pod!” Brienne didn’t mean to snap at the young man, but his knack for pointing out the obvious was rather wearing.

Jaime exhaled loudly as he grabbed Brienne’s hand again. “I’ll take her back to the village we passed a while back. They probably have a local healer.”

“I don’t need a healer.” Brienne spat the words through gritted teeth as she pain washed through her.

With an irritated huff, Jaime grabbed her cheek and forced eye contact. “Stop being so damn stubborn. You’re bleeding all over. You’ll bleed yourself unconscious or worse.”

“Says the man who lost a hand and survived without a healer!”

Jaime scoffed at the words. “Do you not recall Qyburn tending it after you cared for me days on end! Were it not for you, I very well would have died. I’m taking you to that village.”

Jaime stood up and collected his sword and dagger before jogging off to prepare one of the horses.

_Oh, Gods why did I let him get to me!?_

Pod moved to crouch before Brienne where Jaime had been. “Pod, stay with her for a moment.” Sansa spoke hurriedly and stood to walk back towards the campfire.

“It will be alright my lady. We’ll get you patched up.” Brienne sighed and offered a weak smile to Pod. _He means well, even if I do want to throttle him._

From behind her, Brienne could hear Sansa reprimanding Jaime. “There are better ways to flirt than nearly slicing her hand off.”

Brienne cringed and felt her face flame _. I’m the last person Jaime Lannister would mean to flirt_ _with_.

Jaime and Sansa squabbled in hushed words that Brienne couldn’t make out while Pod prattled on about hand injuries. Brienne wished she could just go back in time and let Jaime win the damn spar.

Pod moved back from where he was kneeling as Jaime returned and crouched before her. His left hand came to her arm and tugged her up as he stood. “Come on Brienne. We need to get that stitched now.”

Walking towards the horse, Brienne protested when she saw just the one mount. “Seven hells I can ride! Lets get ready another horse”

Jaime chuckled and pushed her forward. “Not if they give you poppy. You’d fall flat on your face on return.”

Brienne rolled her eyes and mounted the horse. Her palm pulsated and distracted her from the sensation of Jaime getting on the horse behind her. His right arm wrapped around her waist as his left hand grabbed the reigns.

 _Perfect. Now I can sit pressed against the object of my latest unrequited love._

They took off towards the small village they passed earlier that day. The ride seemed to take an eternity and the blood dripped down Brienne’s wrist and onto her tunic, jerkin, and the horse.

She started to feel slightly dizzy from blood loss, but they soon arrived. Jaime made some inquiries and was directed to the house of a local healer.

A hefty sum of coin later, Brienne had her wound cleaned and stitched; a dose of milk of the poppy given for the pain. The only thing more distracting than the healer’s horrible breath was Jaime staring at her.

 _Gods, why is he looking at me like that? Like this pains him_.

The poppy worked quickly, and Brienne felt a bit woozy as they moved towards the horse. “Are you alright?” Jaime’s arm looped around Brienne’s waist as she nearly walked into the stone wall lining the cottage’s property.

Brienne had only been given poppy once before. It made her feel carefree in a way she could only liken to overindulging in wine. She had been foolish to overdrink once at a feast on Tarth and had not made that mistake again since. With a slight chuckle, she stumbled again.

Jaime snorted at her side. “Gods. You’re poppy drunk. Do you want me to purchase some more of that? You seem in good spirits.”

Swatting at his chest, Brienne chuckled and tripped forward towards the horse. “Let me help! You’re likely to hoist yourself up and fall right over the other side.”

Picturing Jaime’s words in her head, Brienne guffawed loudly. _Why is that so funny? Why does my voice seem so loud?_

Jaime chuckled as he helped her up onto the horse. “They’re likely to hear that laugh three kingdoms over.”

“Don’t mock me! This is your fault!” Brienne felt indignation flood her body and mingle with mirth as Jaime moved behind her atop the horse.

“I’m not mocking you. I quite like it. You should laugh more often.” Brienne felt Jaime’s stubbled jaw at her ear as he spoke and urged the horse forward. The sensation sent a small shiver down her spine.

Not long into the trip, Brienne felt more woozy than giddy. She started to sway from atop the horse and Jaime pulled her flush against his chest. “Rest, Brienne.”

Something about the tenderness in his voice and the way it rumbled against her back made Brienne snap to attention. _Gods this is torture. Why am I cursed to love men kind enough to overlook my ugliness and care for me? Why couldn’t I love someone too disgusted to willingly touch me?_

Brienne knew she should sit upright, but the poppy made her more daring and carefree. Her pain was dulled, but her senses were heightened.

With Jaime’s chin at the side of her head, Brienne couldn’t avoid the scent of him if she tried. The feeling of his warm breath on her face and neck made her skin tingle. The muscles of his right arm rippled against her body and sent warmth to her core.

 _Gods why is he moving this bloody horse along so slowly_.

“I’m hungry. Can’t we move faster.” Brienne huffed in irritation more at the situation than actual hunger. Truthfully, she hadn’t even noticed she was hungry; her senses consumed by Jaime.

With a huff of laughter into the side of her head, Jaime’s voice was teasing. “You were much more pleasant when you first got the poppy. Should I turn around and get you some more?”

_Yes. Lets stay on the horse. No. Get me off the horse._

All Brienne could do was muster a heavy sigh. She felt Jaime hold her tighter as he urged the horse forward faster. When they finally arrived back at camp, Pod was asleep on his bedroll and Sansa was knitting.

Jaime dismounted and immediately reached up to help Brienne down. “I can get off a horse Ser Jaime. I have a cut on my hand. That is all.”

He rolled his eyes and kept his arms outstretched, helping her down. “Yes, just a cut indeed.” As Brienne’s feet hit the ground, Jaime didn’t move away. His body was painfully close to hers.

“I’m sorry about the hand.” His words were spoken softly against her ear before he backed away and tied off the horse.

Moving to sit at the fire, Brienne looked to see Sansa smile warmly and hand her some food that Pod had caught earlier. 

“How is your hand?”

Brienne sighed and held it up. “I still have it. It’s really not that bad. Just inconvenient.”

Sansa snorted at the words looked back to her knitting. “You’re allowed to be in pain, Brienne. Had that been a man, he would have been in tears.”

The women looked at each other and chuckled lightly before Jaime came and sat down beside Brienne. His left side pressed close to Brienne and she could feel the body heat radiating from him.

Sansa rolled her eyes and looked between them. “First you stab her. Now you sit on her.”

“I’m not sitting on her! It’s cold. She’s shielding me from the breeze.” Jaime leaned against Brienne and reached to her hands to pick some of the meat off the cooked rabbit.

“Ser Jaime, would you like some rabbit.” Exasperation laced Brienne’s tone as she looked to him.

With a wide smile, Jaime chuckled at her. “I definitely should have asked for an extra dose of poppy for you.” Looking to Sansa, Jaime smiled widely.

“She nearly toppled into the poor healer’s cottage. The whole thing would have come tumbling down. Luckily the gallant knight that I am, I saved her and the cottage.”

Brienne closed her eyes and sighed. “You are insufferable, and I hate you.” _And I love you_.

Jaime laughed loudly at her side. The shaking of his shoulders bumping against her arm forced Brienne to bite back a smile.

“Fine. I know when I’m not wanted. I’m going to bed.” Jaime wiped the grease from his hand onto his breeches and leaned in close to whisper for only Brienne’s ears to hear.

“Do you need anything? Are you alright?” Brienne was taken back by the sincerity in his voice. With a shake of her head, Brienne met his yes. “No. Thank you for helping me.”

With a slight shrug, Jaime smiled warmly. “Well, it might have been _almost_ my fault.”

“Almost?” Brienne scoffed and it only made Jaime chuckle more. He stood and walked to the horse to get his bedroll.

Laying it out on the opposite side of the fire near Pod, Brienne watched as Jaime rolled over and settled in for sleep.

Brienne finished the rest of the rabbit quietly as Sansa knitted. Sansa hummed slightly as she worked and eventually struck up a conversation with Brienne.

They talked of many things. Eventually the conversation turned to Sansa’s shock at Tyrion being with Daenerys. Brienne couldn’t help but detect a tone of excitement in Sansa’s voice when she spoke of Tyrion.

Eventually talk turned to Selwyn and Brienne’s childhood on Tarth. Sansa was curious to of the man she was soon to meet.

Brienne became slightly uneasy when the topic shifted to her. She didn’t care to speak about her childhood; the memories unpleasant and a painful reminder of how little she deserved in life.

It made her feel pathetic at how she enjoyed the proximity to Jaime earlier. _A man like him could never want a woman like me. No man would want a woman like me for that matter. I need to be more careful sparring. I can’t ruin the only thing I’m good for; swinging a sword._

Abruptly, Sansa raised a curious brow and stopped her knitting. “Did you always want to be a knight?”

Huffing a laugh, Brienne poked the campfire with a stick before casting it into the flames. “No. I wanted to be one of the fair maidens in the tales and marry the handsome knight.”

Sansa’s eyes met Brienne’s. They filled with surprise and mirth as she took in Brienne’s words. “Truly? What made you change your mind?”

Brienne quickly averted her eyes to the fire; hunching in slightly on herself. “The mirror.”


	8. Sailing (Jaime)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne have a chat under the stars on the way to Dragonstone.

Jaime paced the deck of the ship anxiously. They had set off from White Harbor over a week ago and would arrive at Dragonstone on the morrow. Brienne groaned from her seated position as she cleaned Oathkeeper for the hundredth time that night.

“Would you stop pacing! You’re making me anxious.”

Rounding on her, Jaime scoffed. “Oh apologies. I didn’t realize my looming death was making _you_ anxious.”

Brienne rolled her eyes and met his stare. “Lady Sansa indicated in her missive that you are joining us. I imagine that has given your brother plenty of time to convince Daenerys not to feed you to the dragons.”

“We both know she wouldn’t feed me to them. She means to burn me alive.” Jaime’s words were bitter as memories of tortured innocents flooded his mind.

“I doubt your brother would support her if she was anything like Aerys. Same as my father. He would have none of it.”

_Gods. Her father. What if he is still there?_

“Distract me. What is your father like?” Jaime sat down next to Brienne and watched as her bandaged hand wiped the cloth up and down the flat of the blade. He still felt immense guilt looking at it and wished he had just admitted defeat.

“He is tall.”

Jaime snorted from beside her. “That’s it? He is tall. Yes, well if your height is any indication, he is likely the size of the Mountain.”

With a warning look from Brienne, Jaime threw up his hands. “Apologies. I’m certain he is delightfully dainty.”

“Truly, I don’t know why you’re joining us. Sansa was fine with you staying behind under Jon’s care.” Jaime watched as Brienne’s brows furrowed in concentration; the steel edge of Oathkeeper catching the moonlight from above.

“Ah yes. Jon Snow the King of brooding. Gods he would be even less fun to be around than you are.” Jaime paused and awaited the huff of irritation that was bound to spill from Brienne’s lips. When it did, he continued.

“I told you that I don’t want to stay in the North. It’s too cold and too full of wolves. I’m made for the sun. Lets just go to Tarth and you can yell at me there.”

Jaime glanced at Brienne with a hopeful smile on his face. She offered a small laugh and quirk of her lips as she shook her head in refute.

“I have little desire to go to Tarth unless Lady Sansa bids me go to Tarth.” _Gods. Always with the Starks._

“You are heir to Tarth, aren’t you? Surely you don’t mean to just follow Sansa around as an elongated shadow for the rest of her life. Don’t you want a life of your own.” Jaime looked hopefully at Brienne; inwardly imploring her to express some desire to have a life outside of the North. Ideally one he could participate in.

Brienne shrugged. “I wouldn’t make a good heir. I think my father would be better served leaving it to a trusted advisor.”

“I think you would make a good heir. Despite your lack of conversational skills and stubbornness, you are honorable, loyal, and smart.”

Jaime watched as Brienne’s cheeks pinked and she shifted uncomfortably at the praise. “I’m not what he needs.”

“Why? What does he want of you?”

Brienne stopped cleaning Oathkeeper and huffed in exasperation. “What do you think he wants? What did your father want from you?”

Jaime looked away and nodded his head in understanding. “Yes, well I was a bit distracted from all that at the time. Just hadn’t met the right woman.” With a wide smile, Jaime whipped his head back to Brienne.

Brienne guffawed. “Hadn’t met the right woman or hadn’t met a woman you were _allowed_ to marry?”

Carefully choosing his words, Jaime looked up at the sky and sighed. “Luckily for me, I fancied myself in love with someone that I couldn’t have. It prevented me from giving into my father’s whims and marrying some dull, courtly woman. Luckily, I now realize how very far removed from love _that_ was and thanks to my shit of a brother, Tywin isn’t around to demand things of me.”

With a slight chuckle, Brienne went back to cleaning her blade and they fell into companionable silence.

Jaime stared at Brienne from the corner of his eye. “Your father wants you to marry?”

Brienne shrugged slightly and put Oathkeeper back into the scabbard. “I’m certain he has given up on all that.”

“He never made you a match?”

“He tried.” The words left Brienne’s lips more as a whisper than statement.

“What happened?” At his question, Brienne turned to him as though it was the most idiotic question she had ever heard.

“I’m certain you can guess.”

Jaime studied her face, but when she didn’t move to continue speaking, he questioned her. “Did you meet him?”

A shadow passed over Brienne’s face and she grunted in frustration. “Obviously they saw me. Why else would the match fail.”

“They? You had more than one betrothed?” Jaime’s eyes were wide in shock. He watched as Brienne’s face flushed in realization of the excess information she gave.

Swallowing thickly, she turned her head away from him. “Yes, well that should tell you plenty.”

Jaime’s first instinct was to laugh, but he didn’t want Brienne to think that he was laughing at her. He was laughing at the dolts who let her slip away.

“Well they sound like proper fools.” He tried to keep his tone free from any mirth; hoping Brienne would understand that he meant it. Of course, she didn’t.

Snapping her head to him, her face was alight with indignation. “Do not mock me.”

“I am not mocking you! I mean it. I would not lie to you, Brienne.” They stared at each other with knitted brows and irritation on their faces. 

“Just forget we spoke of it. I rather not think on all that.”

“Fine. Tell me about Tarth then. I sailed past it once. It looked beautiful.” _It reminded me of you_.

“It’s an island.”

Jaime burst out laughing. “Gods and you wonder where Pod gets it from. Your father is tall. Tarth is an island. How would you describe me? Onehanded?”

“No. I would describe you as the most insufferable ass that I have ever met.”

Jaime’s chest shook with laughter as he stared at her flustered face. “I’m honored that you have the most to stay about me. I knew you loved me.” Putting out his arms dramatically, Jaime beckoned her in for a hug. “Come on. You know you want to.”

With a huff of irritation, Brienne grabbed Oathkeeper and stood up; readying to walk away. Jaime reached out and grabbed her forearm.

“Wait! I’m sorry. I’ll be on my best behavior. Please, sit down. It’s likely my last night in this world and I don’t want to be alone.”

Brienne glared down and crossed her arms. Looking up at her, Jaime felt his breath catch. The moonlight seemed to cast an otherworldly beauty to her. Her blonde hair caught the moonlight and her sapphire eyes were framed by the glow. Without her armor, the slender curves of her lean body were outlined by the night sky.

 _In any light she is a beauty. In this light she is a goddess_.

Brienne sat down in annoyance and placed Oathkeeper back on the deck. Taking a deep breath, Jaime looked at his feet before speaking towards the tips of his boots.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I quite enjoy being around you and I would much rather be here with you than anywhere else. In fairness, I don’t intend to be an insufferable ass. It just happens organically. A Lannister trait I’m afraid.”

Hearing a small laugh from Brienne, Jaime felt victory course through him. Turning to Brienne, he watched as she looked out over the water.

“I’m quite happy you didn’t marry those dolts. Then you wouldn’t be here with me.”

Brienne rolled her eyes. “No, I imagine you wouldn’t, but were that the case, you would also have two hands.”

Jaime looked into Brienne’s eyes and spoke with the utmost seriousness. “Then I prefer the one hand.”

It felt to Jaime as though his heart might beat out of his chest. He could think of nothing more than kissing her. Holding Brienne’s gaze, Jaime’s body instinctively leaned towards her. He watched as her face changed from confusion to discomfort.

Turning away, she cleared her throat and stared at seemingly nothing off the starboard side of the boat. _Fucking hells. What was I thinking?_

Rejection and embarrassment washed over Jaime as he took a deep breath and looked back to his boots. They sat in an uncomfortable silence as Jaime continued to inwardly berate himself.

Finally collecting himself, Jaime stood to leave and bowed slightly. “I should get some rest. Long day tomorrow trying not to be torched by dragons. Goodnight.”

Jaime walked off quickly, making his way below deck to his assigned quarters. As he flopped face first onto the bed, Jaime closed his eyes and desperately tried to shake the memory of Brienne turning away from him.

The next day Jaime found himself again pacing at the front of the ship. He had little desire to come face to face with Aerys’ daughter. The only thing more distressing was the awkwardness he had caused with Brienne.

As the ship dropped anchor and they made their way into the boat which would take them the rest of the way, Jaime cursed himself for having no plan in mind for what was to come.

His leg twitched nervously in the boat as he gnawed at his lip. _Gods I won’t even die in Brienne’s arms if its to be death by dragon. Not that she would even want to hold me_.

As he looked back at the ship, he felt a hand halt the shaking of his right leg. Looking to his right, his eyes met Brienne’s. “Stop that. Its almost as bad as the pacing.”

Jaime looked back down and closed his eyes; forcing himself to take a deep breath.

“I won’t let her kill you. I promise.” At Brienne’s words, Jaime head snapped back to her face.

She was looking resolutely at the looming castle atop the cliff. Jaime worried that she might be killed by association. “Do not do anything stupid on account of me. I’ll take whatever punish me sees fit to give.”

“I won’t let her punish you for your bravest act. She’ll have to kill us both if she means to try anything.”

Jaime felt his pulse race at the thought of harm befalling Brienne. “Promise me you won’t do anything foolish to save me! Just let it happen.”

“I will make no such promise!” They glared at each other and Jaime turned away in irritation. He knew that look on her face. He had seen it before. There was no swaying her. _Stupid, stubborn wench._

They were greeted at the beach by several of Daenerys’ men and Tyrion. Sansa moved quickly to Tyrion and dropped to embrace him. Jaime saw a knowing smile tug at Brienne’s lips. _Does she know something that I don’t?_

Standing behind Sansa was Pod, who was also eager to see his Tyrion again. Memories of the day Jaime sent the young boy off with Brienne came flooding back. The same day he gave her the armor and Oathkeeper. The day he had to watch her walk away, knowing he may never see her again.

He looked to her at his side and a small smile tugged at his lips. _I should have just kissed her. Consequences be damned_.

Jaime wasn’t certain how long he had been staring at Brienne when he heard his brother’s voice before him. “Yes, hello. Down here. I know I’m short, but I’m not that difficult to see.”

As if shaken from a dream, Jaime shook his head and then looked down at Tyrion. A flood of emotions came back to him. Relief, anger, betrayal, and joy. His younger brother had a strange smile on his face as he quickly looked to Brienne before meeting Jaime’s eyes again.

“It’s good to see you, brother. You look… well…”

Jaime’s eyes narrowed in anger. “Do you have a crossbow with you? Mayhap you’ll have one of those pleasant looking Dothraki take my head off with an arakh to switch things up a bit.”

Tyrion sighed and looked back to Sansa and Pod before returning his eyes to Jaime. “I’m hoping we can talk later. I understand you’re mad at me for what happened.”

“For what happened!? You _killed_ our father. Left us vulnerable for all the kingdoms to destroy us. They’re all dead now Tyrion. Every last Lannister who mattered.”

Tyrion’s face betrayed his shock. _Yes, that’s right little brother. I don’t give two shits about Cersei any longer. The only one who used to matter to me, is now the one who matters the least._

With a surprised expression still fixed across his face, Tyrin looked to Brienne and smiled. “Lady Brienne. Good to see you again.”

Brienne bowed her head and returned Tyrion’s smile. “Lord Tyrion. I’m glad to see you are well.”

“Well, I suppose that makes one of you…” With an awkward laugh, Tyrion flitted his eyes to Jaime who looked unimpressed by the remark.

“Shall we? The queen awaits.” Tyrion pointed his hand toward the steps which lead up the winding path to the castle above. Jaime took a deep breath and felt the anxiety return.

_This is truly my worst idea yet._


	9. Plotting (Cersei)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei receives word from Baelish and begins to plot her revenge.

Staring out at the city below, Cersei took a sip of her wine as she crinkled the missive within the hand resting atop the balcony railing. The putrid smell of the harbor and city wafted over the balcony. Cersei curled her lips in distaste as she looked down upon King’s Landing. _Peasants. All of them. I should have done myself and favor and removed more than the Sept_.

Looking down at the missive, her mind considered the words from Baelish.

_Your Grace,_

_I write to inform you of some most interesting developments. As you know, I have been in control of the Vale after the tragic passing of Lysa Arryn. In service to your crown, I have kept the North under close watch to report any movement against you on their part._

_Sansa Stark and her bastard brother have won back Winterfell from the Boltons. They have named the bastard King in the North and live in open rebellion._

_Word has also reached my ears that Daenerys Targaryen has landed at Dragonstone. She has an army of 100,000 strong, your brother Tyrion as Hand, and three full grown dragons._

_Whispers bring me news that she has successfully treated with Ellaria Sand and Olenna Tyrell. She means to treat with Sansa Stark and her sworn sword, Brienne of Tarth. Her father, Selwyn Tarth, is at Dragonstone with Daenerys currently._

_Your brother arrived north and has been trailing around the giantess from Tarth. Quite an embarrassing sight to behold. He longs for the beastly woman. I’ve heard of the giantess’s secret lineage. Her mother is a Targaryen bastard and Daenerys seeks her out. Collectively, the wish to take your crown._

_The North is weakened from its wars and poses no threat. In command of the Vale, I will move my armies against the Reach and bring you Olenna Tyrell. My sources tell me that Olenna is responsible for the poisoning of King Joffrey._

_I encourage you to contract with the Golden Company across the Narrow Sea. With their forces, I have a plan for how we can take out the dragons and protect your crown. I merely ask for a place on your council as I once had before my dismissal from court to bring the Vale against the treasonous forces of Stannis Baratheon._

_Yours in service_

_Petyr Baelish_

Qyburn stood silently in the corner of the room, awaiting Cersei’s command. “I need you to bring me the services of the Golden Company immediately. Send half of our fleet to receive them. I want the entirety of their forces. And the war elephants. Don’t forget the elephants.”

As Qyburn bowed to leave and get word to the crown’s forces in King’s Landing, Cersei called out. “Qyburn. One more thing.”

The exiled maester moved back towards her and awaited her command. “Send Euron to attack to take his fleet to Tarth and destroy it. If he means to curry favor with the crown, he will carry out my orders explicitly. I want that beast and her father brought to me… alive. If they aren’t there during the attack, tell the men to take captive whatever miserable shit is in command.”

Euron had come to court days prior seeking an alliance. Uncertain how best to use him, Cersei bid him await her word from his docked ships at the harbor. Her initial instinct had to been to send him after the Sand whores in Dorne.

After her walk of atonement and receipt of Myrcella’s poisoned body, Cersei immediately set to work with a plan to capture Ellaria and her daughter. She dipped into the crown’s pockets to hire the Faceless Men to do her bidding.

After years of Robert’s whoring and feasting, the crown had little coin to spare and she could only afford two names. Ellaria Sand and her daughter, Tyene Sand. The instructions were clear, keep them alive and bring them to King’s Landing. Cersei had plans for them.

The first part of her plan was executed flawlessly. She planted the kiss of death on Tyene and left her mother chained to a wall just out of reach. Ellaria’s fate was to watch her daughter die and rot before her eyes. The guards would only feed her enough to keep her alive to watch helplessly as her daughter turned to bones before her eyes.

What Cersei did not count on, was Ellaria’s escape with the aid of the other Sands. Oberyn’s other bastards. When word came of the escape, Cersei stormed down to the black cells and saw the bodies of the useless guards.

She wanted to send Jaime to find those Sand whores. Make them pay for what they did to Myrcella. Her twin-lover did not return to her though. _How dare Jaime abandon me! His other half! His mirror image. He is nothing without me. He has followed at my heels his entire life; just as he followed my heel into this world._

Looking to the missive again, Cersei’s soul filled with rage at Baelish’s words. ‘ _Your brother arrived north and has been trailing around the giantess from Tarth. Quite an embarrassing sight to behold. He longs for the beastly woman.’_

Cersei’s lips curled into a snarl _. Good. I’m glad I had yet to send Euron to Dorne_. _This will be better. I’ll have him lay waste to Tarth and let Baelish take down that treasonous bitch Olenna. Then we’ll deal with the Targaryens and anyone else who dare rise against me._

Turning slightly to look over her shoulder, Cersei saw the monstrous frame of Ser Gregor behind her. She felt untouchable. She had a competent Hand serving at her side and the Mountain. Jaime and the entirety of the Kingsguard couldn’t guard her half as well as Ser Gregor.

Cersei thought back on an earlier meeting with a soldier from the Stormlands. When Stannis’ forces fell during the battle of the Blackwater, the crown retained many of his defeated soldiers and forced them into service.

When the beast came to the capital with Jaime, she heard the whispers _. Kingslayer’s Whore. Brienne the Beauty_. At first, Cersei thought nothing of it. Then she came to hear that the cow had fled the city after Joffrey’s murder. Jaime’s valyrian steel sword from father was missing.

Rumors swirled that she was sent off by Jaime himself; fresh armor, his sword, and Tyrion’s squire. Cersei had one of her attendants fetch the man who whispered the words just a moon prior.

Ronnet Connington. Some useless soldiers from the Stormlands. He told Cersei the story of ‘Brienne the Beauty’. Of their broken betrothal and the rose he threw in the cow’s face. Ronnet told Cersei of the stories circulating from the men returning from the Riverlands. _The Kingslayer’s Whore_.

Jaime had saved the lumbering beast from a bear pit after he was already on his way back to King’s Landing. He laughed at the pointlessness of Jaime’s return for the beast. _‘The bear was likely to flee in terror just from the sight of her. She didn’t need your brother’s rescue.’_

Disbelieving Jaime would have delayed his return to her, Cersei called on Qyburn to confirm the report. When he did, Cersei had raged at Jaime for days. Taken as many of his men into her bed as she could. Flaunted it in front of him.

She should have seen it then. Her Jaime would have raged more. Jealousy driving him to break men’s skulls to get to her. To reclaim her. This new Jaime hardly noticed nor cared.

Cersei accused Jaime of betraying her for the cow. He insisted otherwise and rattled off everything he had done for her. It wasn’t enough. He let the cow go. He let Tyrion go. He failed to bring Myrcella back alive. He let his weakness into Tommen’s blood. He abandoned her.

A chill went down Cersei’s spine as she reflected on the whispered moniker from Ronnet Connington. _Brienne the Beauty_. The childhood prophecy from the woods witch came back to her.

‘ _Queen you shall be... until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear.’_

Younger and more beautiful rolled around in Cersei’s mind. The cow was younger. Her nickname, although in jape, was Brienne the Beauty. She’ll take my crown with the help of her newly arrived kin. I should have killed the lumbering beast when I had the chance.

Cersei considered the pitiful creature. The way she mooned after Jaime when she thought no one was looking. The reports that came to Cersei during the beast’s stay in the capital were shocking. From the whispers, Cersei’s golden twin was seen walking the gardens with the cow and _enjoying_ its company. 

Thinking back on the days when Jaime first returned, Cersei considered his demeanor. He seemed sullen and meek. A shadow of himself. And that stump. _Gods. Disgusting_.

She had sent Jaime away at first. Too disgusted at his delayed return and maiming. She noticed how his eyes drifted to the beast throughout the coming days. When she eventually allowed him back to her bed, the coupling lacked something.

When they came together before his maiming, it was raw, animalistic lust. Frantic hands in dark corners. The thrill of hiding and taking what she wanted from Jaime, only to put on her courtly smile and sway her hips at Robert and the lords at court.

The few times they lay together after his maiming, the spark was gone. At first, Cersei thought it to do with Robert’s death. There was no thrill of being caught. Of taking from her twin and sending him back to the shadows. Now, he was just there. A vacant look on his face. The fire in his eyes gone.

Broken and useless with his sword hand gone, Jaime was different from her in too many ways. He was detached and seemed to be reaching for something Cersei couldn’t see. Jaime seemed dissatisfied and agitated with her. _Was he longing for the beast even then?_

Cersei took another sip of her wine and considered her former lover.

 _He lost the best part of himself when he lost the hand. My golden lion is dead. He is a shell of a man now. I will make him pay for choosing that beast over me_.

Looking again at the looming form of the mountain, a smile tugged at her lips. A vision formed in her mind _. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll make Jaime watch as the Mountain does to his precious cow what I had the Mountain do to Septa Unella._

Taking the last sip of her wine, Cersei put the cup on the table and crinkled the missive, tossing into the hearth.


	10. Meeting Kin (Tyrion)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne, Jaime, Sansa, and Pod come face to face with Daenerys and Selwyn.

On the walk up to the castle, Tyrion spoke with Sansa as Pod walked closely behind them. It took him by surprise how his heart pounded excitedly at the sight of Sansa. Upon hearing of her survival and effort to reclaim Winterfell, Tyrion had been pleased; proud even. Conversing with her now, something different tugged at Tyrion’s heart. Something akin to what he witnessed on the beach.

Looking back every so many steps, Jamie watched as his brother prattled on at Brienne. Tyrion had of course heard rumors, but never put much thought to them. Jaime was Cersei’s creature. But of late, Tyrion wondered.

Seeing Jaime staring at Brienne on the beach was most revealing. Over the years, Tyrion had seen Jaime look at Cersei in a variety of ways; lust, jealousy, frustration, possessiveness, and unease. On the beach, Tyrion observed an entirely new look in his brother’s eyes. Love.

_Could it be true? Is he truly free of Cersei? How long has he felt that way for the lady warrior?_

The part of Tyrion that had been cast aside when he needed Jaime to stop Cersei’s cruelty refuted his assessment of the display on the beach. _But then again, he did save me from Cersei and father when it mattered most…_

Making their way into the castle, Tyrion nodded at the Unsullied who guarded the door to the great hall. The doors creaked open and before him sat his queen. Selwyn stood to her right, Missandei and Varys to her left.

Grey Worm stood in his usual spot at the base of the stairs; a vacant expression on his face. _Gods I hope this little group from the North bend to Daenerys and stay for some time. I would prefer eye rolls at my japes rather than furrowed brows and requested explanations_.

Walking to the base of the stairs, Tyrion looked to the group beside him. Pod was at Tyrion’s left. Sansa and Brienne next to him. Jaime was to Brienne’s left, but a step or two behind; an uneasy expression on his face.

“Your Grace, may I present Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell. Lady Brienne of Tarth and her squire Podrick Payne. And… my brother, Ser Jaime Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West.”

At his words, Jaime let out a loud snort and rolled his eyes. Tyrion glanced to his left in time to see Brienne elbow Jaime in the side.

Missandei smiled and tilted her chin to announce the queen. Tyrion groaned inwardly. _Gods here we go. By the seven, do not let my insolent brother make something of this title_.

“You stand in the presence of Daenerys Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, queen of the Andals and the First Men, protector of the Seven Kingdoms, Mother of Dragons, Khalessi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains.”

Jaime chuckled and whispered to Brienne at a volume far too loud given the vaulted ceilings in the room. “Is that it then? I was worried we might run out of daylight.” Tyrion could do little more than cringe as he watched Daenerys glare at Jaime.

“Gods do you ever stop. It’s a marvel you’ve only lost the hand.” Sansa spoke through gritted teeth and rubbed the bridge of her nose in exasperation. _Ah, you’ve traveled a long way with my brother_.

Daenerys glided down the steps, her icy gaze still set on Jaime. As she neared the bottom steps, Daenerys smiled warmly at Sansa and extended a hand.

“Lady Sansa. I thank you for accepting my invitation. I look forward to getting to know one another. I’ve heard impressive things about you from my Hand. Your former husband, I believe.”

Sansa smiled and took Daenerys’ hand. “I’m pleased to meet you and discuss our common _interests_.”

A knowing smile passed between the women as Daenerys turned to Pod. “Podrick Payne, I assume? You look far too intelligent to be the other man announced by Lord Tyrion.”

Tyrion’s eyes flitted to Brienne and Jaime. Jaime looked unimpressed, but Brienne was trying and failing to suppress a smile. Sansa for her part chuckled audibly before quickly covering her mouth with a dainty hand.

Pod eagerly bowed to the queen and placed a kiss to her knuckles. _Good lad_.

Daenerys moved down the line to Brienne. Brienne’s attention was momentarily distracted by her father who stood at the top of the steps; a warm smile on his face. As Daenerys approached, Brienne’s eyes flitted to the queen.

Brienne moved to bow slightly at Daenerys, but dragon queen pulled her into a hug. “Cousin. Its good to finally meet you.”

“What!?” Jaime’s words echoed off the rafters and his mouth gaped like a fish. He looked down the line to Sansa, Pod, and Tryion. Pod seemed equally surprised, but Tyrion laughed and offered a shrug while Sansa raised her brows knowingly; a most amused smile on her face.

With an awkward look to her father, Brienne slowly returned the hug albeit with a degree of trepidation. With an uncertain smile on her face, Brienne replied to the woman. “Good to meet you as well.”

Daenerys stepped back to appraise Brienne before turning to Selwyn. “Your father did not misrepresent you. You look quite formidable indeed.” Brienne’s face fell slightly, but Daenerys did not seem to notice as she looked back to Selwyn who slowly made his way down the steps.

His hands were clasped behind his back as he locked eyes with Brienne. A small smile tugged at his lips. When he stood before Brienne, Daenerys stepped to the side slightly as the two Tarth kin faced one another.

“Well, girl?” Extending his long arms, Selwyn’s lips spread into a wide smile. “Rytsas”

Brienne moved forward and was engulfed by her father. _Gods only Selwyn Tarth could make Brienne look like a child’s doll_. Looking at Jaime, Tyrion observed his older brother motionless. His face still frozen in shock.

Selwyn chuckled as he squeezed Brienne. “ _Avy jorrāelan_ _”. By the seven, please don’t let these three speak in Valyrian the entire time. I would much prefer not needing to beg Missandei for assistance at every turn_ _._

_When Brienne finally stepped back from her father’s embrace, her face had a wide smile plastered to it. Tyrion found himself taken aback by the sight._ _Gods her face transforms when she smiles_ _. Looking back at Jaime, Tyrion observed his brother’s face unfreeze. He was smiling at Brienne again with that ridiculous, lovesick expression on his face._

_Daenerys grabbed Selwyn’s forearm and gave a warm squeeze. “We have much to discuss. All of us actually.” She briefly looked back to Sansa and Pod before continuing. “I’ve asked the staff to prepare a feast tonight, but I’m hoping we can speak somewhere more comfortable first.”_

_Tyrion watched as Daenerys’ face quickly fell when she turned towards Jaime. Willing his brother to keep his mouth shut, Tyrion shuffled his feet slightly._

_Daenerys slid between Brienne and Selwyn to face Jaime. Her face was stern as she looked up at him. “Kingslayer.”_

_Tyrion swallowed nervously as Jaime’s facial features shifted into an all too familiar set._ _The Golden Lion. Please Jaime. Don’t be you right now_ _._

Jaime looked down his nose at her; a vicious snarl at his lips. “Princess.” The words were spoken venomously.

Without taking her eyes off Jaime, Daenerys spoke commandingly. “My apologies Lady Sansa, Pod, and cousin. I fear our conversation will be slightly delayed as I intend to first speak with the man who killed my father. Grey Worm. Please take the Kingslayer’s sword and dagger. I would hate to be stabbed in the back as I walk through my own home.”

For his part, Jaime kept his mouth shut and unbuckled his sword belt. He held Daenerys’ stare as he grabbed the belt and sheathed weapons, holding his arm out behind him as the Unsullied commander approached to take it.

Pointing in the direction of the study which was off a side hallway near the front of the great hall, Daenerys flashed a false smile at Jaime. As the two began to walk, Daenerys called back to Tyrion. “Come along Lord Hand. Lets deal with your kin. I would hate people to think me a biased judge.”

As Tyrion moved to follow, his progress was halted at the sound of Brienne’s voice filling the room defiantly. She spoke rapidly and loudly in Valyrian and Tyrion watched as Daenerys stopped walking and turned to her. Brienne seemed to go on for some time before stopping and awaiting reply.

Whatever she said, Selwyn did not like the sound of. His face reddened and he responded angrily at Brienne, but his daughter did not remove her eyes from Daenerys. Cutting off Selwyn, Brienne spoke again urgently, and Daenerys’ features softened slightly.

Selwyn’s mouth shut abruptly, and he flinched. The two women stared at one another for a moment; Brienne’s features resolute and Daenerys’ features slightly shocked. With a small nod, Daenerys responded to Brienne. “You have my word cousin.”

Tyrion moved quickly past the group; his inquisitive eyes lingering on Brienne as he passed. Catching up to Daenerys and Jaime, he watched as they both walked stiffly to the study.

When they entered and shut the door, Daenerys pointed to a chair opposite the desk and commanded Jaime to sit. Jaime slouched into the chair and watched as she walked around to the chair at the other side.

Tyrion moved to stand beside his queen. _I need to be clear that I am on her side._

As she sat down, Daenerys sighed and looked to Jaime. “I’ve waited my entire life for this confrontation. I’ve dreamed of the many ways I would avenge my father and torture his murderer. Despite that, I am not my father. I wish to listen to perceived enemies before rendering verdict. Unfortunately for me, you also seem to have some supporters here.”

Daenerys’ eyes looked quickly to Tyrion and he offered a small smile while looking ahead at the wall; afraid to take action in anyway that may upset Daenerys or sway a negative decision.

“Why did you stab your king, my father, in the back? Why did you break your oaths?”

Jaime looked like he might be sick as he looked to the floor. Whatever he was thinking, it was evident to Tyrion that Jaime didn’t wish to share it.

“I upheld my oaths as a knight _before_ my oaths as a kingsguard. The two were at conflict.”

Daenerys brows quirked and she studied Jaime. “What does that mean?”

With a heavy sigh, Jaime looked out the window. “You may have heard what I did, but I doubt you’ve evaded rumors of your father’s madness.”

Tyrion looked to Daenerys and observed a stiffening in her shoulders and jaw. Through gritted teeth she responded to Jaime. “Word of his madness has not evaded me. What does that have to do with what you did?”

Jaime snorted and looked back to Daenerys. “Everything. Did you hear that he had a penchant for burning innocents alive in his throne room?” 

Daenerys swallowed thickly and shook her head in denial.

“Oh shame. It was his favorite activity; second only to raping your mother.” _Gods Jaime. Now is not the time for your attitude_.

Daenerys appeared ready to strangle Jaime herself, but then he spoke again; his voice sorrowful. “It’s the only thing I regret. Not being able to stop him from hurting her.”

The words caught Tyrion off-guard, but less so than Daenerys. Her mouth gaped as Jaime looked back down to the floor.

“He like to rape her after burning people with wildfire in the throne room. His use of wildfire started out as punishment for those guilty of crimes against the crown. Then he began burning those he didn’t like. Then he began burning innocents purely for pleasure.”

Tyrion watched as Jaime grabbed at the area where his stump met his false hand.

Jaime shook his head as if trying to clear his head. “I begged him to surrender the city when my father’s forces were at the gates. He would hear none of it. He looked to the pyromancer and gave the command. ‘Burn them all. Burn them all.’ I killed the pyromancer first. Then I killed your father. Aerys had the wildfire placed throughout the tunnels of King’s Landing and meant to kill everyone within the city.”

Daenerys exhaled audibly and glanced at Tyrion; a combination of sorrow and shock in her eyes. Turning back to Jaime, she steadied herself. “Who knows of this?”

“Brienne.”

Tyrion and Daenerys exchanged another look at one another before she contemplated the words and looked back to Jaime.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“No one asked. No one would have believed me anyway. My reputation was a small price to pay given the alternative.” Jaime’s words were bitter, and Tyrion felt a pang in his heart. _How could he never tell me this? How has he lived with these memories alone for so long?_

Tyrion’s thoughts were cut off by Daenerys’ voice. Her words shocked him. “Well, I’m glad it is me and not my brother alive to speak with you on this matter. You would have been dead the moment your foot touched the shore. From what you’ve told me and others along my journey home, my father was truly mad. I saw the signs in my brother. I thank you for stopping the spread of it.”

Jaime’s eyes darted to her in shock. His lips parted, but quickly shut. His brows furrowed as he looked down and swallowed thickly. A slight nod of the head and Tyrion could tell by the reddening of Jaime’s ears that he was overwhelmed.

“Did you know my oldest brother well?” At Daenerys’ question, Jaime’s eyes met hers; a slight sheen in them. “More from observation than speaking with him.”

Daenerys nodded her head. “Ser Barristan used to tell me stories of him. I miss that. Perhaps later you can share stories of him. Or of my mother.”

Jaime nodded in agreement but could not seem to find words.

“Well, we should get back to the rest of my guests. I should like to speak with Lady Sansa and my kin on several matters. I welcome you to join.”


	11. A Father's Worry (Selwyn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selwyn reflects on everything that has happened

Selwyn stood in the great hall speaking with Brienne as he saw Daenerys, Tyrion, and the Kingslayer walking back towards them. Daenerys did not look enraged so much as unnerved. Tyrion looked relieved while his brother looked as though he had seen the Stranger himself.

Appraising the insolent man, Selwyn thought back on Brienne’s words in the great hall. He had never heard his daughter speak so passionately about anything. The child spent most of her life on Tarth trying to cower in the shadows; afraid her mere presence would bring more mockery and unwanted attention.

Selwyn had tried and failed many times to shield her from the cruelty of others. He knew he should have been more present in her life, but when his wife and three children died within a year’s time, Selwyn responded by throwing himself into the running of Tarth. He took whores to bed at night so he wouldn’t find himself staring at an unused pillow.

While he later regretted it, Selwyn made little time for Brienne. The time he did spend with her, Selwyn hardly knew what to say. Brienne looked at him with eyes that reflected the loss he felt, but she never spoke. She never asked questions. She never made a fucking sound. The only time she seemed to come alive was with a sword in hand.

So, he allowed it. Selwyn ignored the objections from his advisors and the bewildered looks from visiting nobles, as his only living child, his daughter, donned breeches and swung a sword with the boys.

Selwyn sighed at the thought of it. As if his daughter’s appearance hadn’t brought enough negative attention, now she chose to cast aside feminine expectations in favor of chasing a false dream.

Selwyn also knew that Brienne couldn’t stay on Tarth. If he his aid for the Targaryens was discovered, it would mean death for Brienne. If word of his wife’s lineage came to light, Selwyn knew that Brienne’s death would not be so quick as a beheading. The crown hated Targaryens.

Seeing Brienne years later looking healthy and confident sent a wave of relief through Selwyn. She became what she wanted if not in name, but practice. A knight.

Then she spoke in defense of Jaime. She told Daenerys not to hurt him and that if she did, Brienne would never support her claim. That killing an innocent would make her as mad as Aerys. Selwyn wanted to throttle Brienne in that moment.

But then she spoke again, more imploringly. She told Daenerys that he was a good man. A man of honor. That he had saved her from rape and death. He lost his hand protecting her. That he kept the oaths that mattered most. He protected the innocent. She asked Daenerys not to murder him, even if she did not like his answer for why killed Aerys. To send him away, but not to harm him. Then she would support her cousin’s claim and fight for her as she had for Lady Sansa.

 _Rape? Death?_ Selywn’s mind went back to the ransom letter he received from some thug named Locke. Did they hurt my baby girl?

When the Lannister brothers and Daenerys retreated to the study, Selwyn questioned Brienne if she had been raped. He was immensely relieved to hear that she had not and that she was only alive because of Ser Jaime. That Lady Sansa was only alive because of Ser Jaime.

Selwyn didn’t care for the way Brienne spoke of the incestuous boy. The Kingslayer. While Selwyn didn’t begrudge Jaime for killing Aerys, he didn’t appreciate the ease with which he seemed to betray his king, even if deserved. The ease with which he switched sides at the end of the war.

More so, he didn’t like the way the man got his own sister with three bastards. Bastards who caused a war in the kingdoms. A war that cost the Stormlands their liege lords.

Selwyn worried that his daughter might have feelings for the man. _Great. Another Renly. Another man she could never have_. Everyone knew the Kingslayer to be loyal to no one save his kin. His sister. Selwyn didn’t trust the man despite everything he did for Brienne. It seemed matter of time before he went crawling back to Cersei’s bed.

As the group returned from the study, Daenerys led them to a different room where the attendants had set out some drinks. Selwyn kept his eye on the Kingslayer and Brienne.

The incestuous man crowded too close to Brienne for Selwyn’s taste. Leaning towards her and speaking without words. The pair had an entire conversation without a single word.

The intimacy of it made Selwyn uneasy. Whatever passed between them was understood. Brienne exhaled deeply and turned back to Daenerys as the queen finished directing the staff. 

_How can they be so in tune with one another? How can my daughter associate with such a man?_ Selwyn resolved that he would speak with Brienne in private later that night.

Commanding attention of the room, Daenerys spoke of her forces and objective. She informed them that Dorne, the Stormlands, and the Reach had committed to supporting Daenerys. As she had expressed in her meeting with Olenna and Ellaria, Daenerys indicated that she wasn’t asking the kingdoms to fight with her now, but to support her claim when she sat on the throne. She wanted their fidelity.

At the mention of Ellaria, the Kingslayer’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Ellaria? She is prisoner of the crown.”

Tyrion quickly responded in attempt to prevent his brother from speaking on the topic further. “She escaped with the help of Oberyn’s other daughters. Ellaria’s youngest, Tyene, is dead.”

“She killed Myrcella! Your niece, if you need reminding. How can you treat with them?” Selwyn snorted. “Have you and your family not killed your fair share? You stay in the North under protection of Lady Sansa, but I seem to recall your house destroying the rest of hers.”

Jaime’s jaw snapped shut in shock at Selwyn’s words. His brows furrowed in anger, but he looked back down to the table and kept his mouth shut. _Good. Sit there and shut up. This is your fault we’re even in this situation_.

As quickly as Selwyn felt the victory of the Kingslayer’s silence, he felt dismayed as his daughter locked eyes with Jaime and another wordless conversation seemed to pass between them.

With a sharp inhale, Daenerys continued. “My aim is to remove Cersei from the throne quickly. I do not wish for a prolonged war as it would burden the kingdoms. This is between me and Cersei. She sits on the thrown because of the actions her husband took.”

Looking to Sansa, Daenerys continued. “Can I count on the North to support my claim.”

With a resigned sigh, Sansa met Daenerys’ eyes and spoke earnestly. “My people named Jon their King so I can’t speak on their behalf, but I can tell you that you have my support. I will work to sway my brother. Truthfully, he didn’t even want to be King and I believe he will follow my direction. It was only for our kingdom’s refusal to bend to Cersei that necessitated we name a leader.”

Daenerys’ brows knitted together in confusion. “Are you not the oldest surviving child of your parents? Tyrion told me that you are.”

Sansa smiled warmly at Tyrion before responding to Daenerys. “I am. My brother is a bastard, born of an affair during Robert’s Rebellion. He technically has no claim, but the North chose him.”

With a huff of laughter, Daenerys glanced at Tyrion and Selwyn. “Well this is exactly the type of thing that I shared desire to do away with when treating with Olenna and Ellaria. When I sit on the throne, the oldest living child is to inherit. I would see you named Lady of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Should you wish to give that honor to your brother, so be it. I will concede that I mean to grant right to bastards born to nobility, but they should not supersede a legitimate heir.”

Sansa looked taken aback by Daenerys’ words. A small smile flickering across her face. “I quite like your line of thinking. Perhaps if more woman sat in ruling position, there would be less lunacy in Westeros.”

The women in the room shared a knowing smile and chuckle, but even Selwyn found himself agreeing inwardly. For his part, he had little desire to name anyone other than Brienne as his heir. It was the only good thing to come from her inability to make a match. She would not be taken away to someone else’s lands.

Selwyn’s attention was drawn back to Sansa as the young woman spoke again. “I will send a raven to my brother. If its no trouble to you, we can await his reply from here. I see no reason he wouldn’t bend the knee if you remove Cersei from power. We are left vulnerable living in open rebellion and she has little love of the North. I imagine we are on borrowed time until she sends her armies to march against us. War has ravaged my people. We have no one left to protect us save the word of Ser Jaime.”

 _What’s this now?_ Daenerys cast a peculiar glance at Jaime. “I thought the West was committed to the crown? How can you then protect the North if they stand against it?”

Jaime cleared his throat and spoke quietly. “A Lannister does not sit on the throne. A Baratheon does. I control the West and while I won’t march against my sister, I will not support her. If she moves against the North, I will call the West to defend it.”

With a skeptical look, Daenerys glanced again to Tyrion and Selwyn. “And what of my claim? Would you support it?”

Selwyn watched as the Kingslayer’s eyes sought of Brienne before responding. “I would. I won’t help you fight my sister. I don’t support her, but I won’t go out of my way to harm her. I will pledge the West to you after you take the crown.”

With a slight nod of her head, Daenerys looked to Tyrion. The younger Lannister shrugged slightly. “It’s more than I thought you would get.” He turned to his brother and questioned him. “Have you sent word to Aunt Genna of your intentions to refrain from providing Cersei aid?”

Jaime snorted and rolled his eyes. “Will it matter?”

Daenerys narrowed her eyes as she looked between the two brothers. “What power does your aunt have in this? Do either of you lack authority to control the West’s army?”

Tyrion sighed and looked back at his queen. “Undoubtedly my brother controls them. They have always been his men. My aunt has been acting as castellan for some time.”

“So as castellan, she isn’t even aware where their lord is?” Selwyn could tell that Daenerys was growing irritated at her limited understanding of the Lannister’s family dynamics.

Jaime cut off any reply from Tyrion and looked to Daenerys as he spoke. “My aunt hates Cersei. She always has. She won’t budge from the Rock nor command any men from the West to provide aid to the crown. She’ll await my orders. I was released from the Kingsguard and confirmed lord and warden. If anything, my aunt probably enjoys not knowing what where I am. It gives her a reason to deny Cersei aid. She can claim an inability to find me for approval.”

Tyrion chuckled at Daenerys’ side and looked to Jaime. “Gods she must be thrilled if word reached the Rock that you abandoned Cersei. Imagine the feast she has thrown. She probably sent Addam to withdraw any remaining forces from King’s Landing.”

Jaime smirked and nodded in understanding. Selwyn hardly understood why any of this was so amusing. _The Lannisters are a family I shall never understand. Just as vicious with each other as they are their enemies_.

With a resigned sigh, Daenerys muttered more to herself than the Lannister brothers. “Well better this news than an outright stance against me I suppose.”

Shaking her head and looking back to her guests, the queen spoke at a more audible volume. “Well at least we have most of the kingdoms willing to support my claim when I take the throne. I thank you and Lady Sansa, you are more than welcome to stay and await your brother’s reply. I suppose if you’re staying, that means my cousin and her squire are staying. And if they’re staying…”

Daenerys raised a mocking brow at Jaime who grinned widely and looked to Brienne _. Gods. I truly need to speak with my daughter about this_.

Tyrion clapped his hands together eagerly. “Delightful! Jaime, mayhap you should at least write Aunt Genna before Cersei gets to her. I imagine Cersei is already drafting up proclamation of your removal as warden and lord.”

Jaime rolled his eyes and looked to Tyrion. “Let Cers waste ravens on the matter. It will mean nothing to Aunt Genna nor the West.”

Standing to dismiss everyone, Daenerys reminded the group of when dinner would be served and encouraged them to get settled in given the extension of their stay. Sansa set off to the rookery to send Selwyn expected the Lannister brothers would join Sansa in the rookery to send letters, but he was most discouraged to see the Kingslayer lean into his daughter’s ear. 

He watched intently as words passed between them; the Kingslayer’s arm resting on the backside of Brienne’s chair as they spoke. _No, this won’t do at all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post this chapter with the next (Sansa POV) to help speed this along a bit.


	12. Family Dinner (Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa begins to watch the group dynamics and has a lot to take in at the feast.

The trip to the rookery was quick and Sansa was eager to return to the group. She was curious to understand what transpired in the hall and study. Brienne speaking in valyrian was yet another surprise and left Sansa with so many questions.

_What did she say? What did her father say?_

Sansa had accepted the dragon queen’s invitation out of fear and desperation. Even Cersei couldn’t take on an army the size of Daenerys’. Sansa wanted to understand the potential enemy she would be up against.

Arriving at Dragonstone and seeing the genuine nature of Daenerys and her thoughts on leadership was something Sansa had not expected. Not only did she not strike Sansa as a potential enemy, but Daenerys seemed a competent prospective queen.

Sansa further mused the benefit of having strong connection with the queen via Brienne. To most it seemed Sansa wanted independence for the North above all other things, but truthfully what she wanted was peace and safety for her people. 

Everyone in the North knew the dangers of going South. Going south killed her grandfather and uncle. Years later going south killed her father and by consequence, most of her kin. Southern rulers had been cruel and deceitful. They cared not for the needs and safety of the North.

With the connection to Brienne, she felt considered and trusting in this potential queen. It went a long way that Tyrion felt strongly in both Daenerys’ capability and resolve. Like Sansa, Tyrion had seen the worst of them and knew what Westeros needed.

Further, Sansa saw Daenerys’ childhood in exile as a positive trait in the woman’s intended rule. She had no pre-existing ties with other kingdoms that could sway her opinion of the North or handling of cross-kingdom matters. Daenerys would need to be impartial, respectiful, and generous in her handling of what is essentially a foreign world to her.

The more Sansa thought on it, the little chance she saw for Daenerys to be an unfit ruler. When writing the missive to Jon, she made it quite clear that this alliance must happen. It was Sansa who pushed for Northern independence more than Jon. Jon just wanted to do little more than focus on the threat north of the wall. He would go along with Sansa’s words; of that much she was certain.

Making her way back to the hall, a guard directed her to where everyone had moved to. She made her way outside towards the training yards and found Tyrion and Selwyn in deep conversation from the balcony. They were observing Jaime, Pod, and Brienne below as the three trained.

 _Well this will be interesting_. Sansa made her way to the two men and stood to Selwyn’s left. Looking down at the yard, she observed the usual scene. Brienne training Pod and Jaime being a brat, needling Brienne from his seat on a rock at the edge of the yard.

 _Gods. I thought we spoke on this_. At her approach, the two men bowed and bid her welcome. Sansa smiled politely and looked at Tyrion. “Have our tall friends sparred yet?”

Tyrion snorted and shook his head. “No, my brother has been busy charming her from his makeshift throne.”

The two chuckled and Selwyn huffed in annoyance. Before Sansa could comment further, some of Daenerys’ men approached the group in the yards. Sansa recognized one of them from the throne room earlier. He spoke to Brienne as Pod and Jaime looked on in confusion.

Sansa could hear them speaking in valyrian. With a nod of her head, the Unsullied joined in the spar. It was to be three on three as they prepared to square off, the two additional Unsullied standing on the side watched their comrades face the Westerosi.

Pod was taken out easily, but Brienne and Jaime held their own against the three. Sansa was amazed watching them. She had only ever seen Jaime and Brienne spar one another. Watching them fight together was something entirely different. It was like watching a choreographed dance.

Jaime would spin under and strike their opponent as Brienne sliced across top. They would move back to back and use on another’s body to gain an advantage on their opponents. Quickly, it was down to two on one with Jaime and Brienne circling Daenerys’ lead commander.

As they had been doing, Jaime and Brienne worked together in an unspoken connection to defeat the last man. The Unsullied had wide smiles on their faces as they appraised the two Westerosi. Sansa felt a swell of pride for her sworn sword… perhaps even a bit for her former goodbrother.

 _Gods even with one hand, he is one of the better fighters I’ve ever seen_. As the match ended, she and Tyrion clapped raucously from their spots on the balcony. Surprising to Sansa was the sound of clapping from above. Looking up, she observed Missandei and Daenerys clapping and watching on from a room inside the castle.

“Grey Worm! You look out of practice form a moon at sea.” Daenerys laughed as she spoke, and the Unsullied guard smiled in return. The only observer seemingly unimpressed was Selwyn.

Sansa, Tyrion, and Selwyn watched on as various sparring matches continued after the first. Some were singlehanded combat and others a group match.

Not surprising to Sansa, Brienne won all her matches. The Unsullied were excellent fighters however and eager to share insight on their weapons with the three below. Similarly, they admired Jaime’s and Brienne’s swords while Pod eagerly took in the experience.

It was soon time to head in and prepare for dinner. Sansa was excited to spend some time with Tyrion and hear more of his travels.

Everyone bathed and prepared for dinner. Soon, Sansa made her way to the hall and was thrilled to see that Tyrion was the first to arrive.

“My former lord husband, do you mind if I sit with you tonight?”

“Oh yes, please! Spare me from the drudgeries of another dinner conversation with Grey Worm. Horrifyingly good soldier. Horrifyingly bad conversationalist.” Tyrion’s eyes filled with mirth as the spoke and Sansa felt a slight flutter in her stomach.

They stood near the dining table and talked of the past year or so before the other guests began to arrive. Jaime, Brienne, and Pod walked in with Grey Worm and Missandei.

Daenerys and Selwyn soon joined everyone; Daenerys’ arm looped through Selwyn’s as they entered the room. The two were laughing and talking animatedly together as they came into the room.

Sansa noticed a peculiar expression on Brienne’s face as she watched her father and Daenerys enter the hall. Daenerys motioned to the table and asked everyone to sit.

In a scene similar to the receiving room earlier that day, Daenerys sat at the head of the table while Grey Worm and Missandei sat to her left and Selwyn to her right.

Tryion sat next to Selwyn and Sansa took a place on Tyrion’s right. Pod moved to sit next to Grey Worm, clearly captivated by the Unsullied leader. Jaime sat next to Pod with Brienne at his left.

Sansa thought it slightly odd that Selwyn didn’t move to sit next to his daughter as there was another place setting left out to Brienne’s side.

She caught her sworn sword looking down the table at her father, a slightly forlorn expression on her face. For his part, Selwyn was still lost in conversation with Daenerys.

Just as the attendants began bringing out wine, a Dothraki soldier entered the room. He and Daenerys exchanged a look and Daenerys eagerly pointed towards the open seat beside Brienne.

“Oh yes, Cohollo! Right there next to Lady Brienne!” 

Sansa watched as a conspiratorial look was exchanged between Daenerys and Selwyn. “Everyone, this is Cohollo. He is one of my most trusted men. An excellent warrior too!”

The man sat beside Brienne and Sansa couldn’t help but marvel at the size of the man. He was as tall as Selwyn or the Mountain, but with a stunning copper-toned complexion, long hair which was pulled back into a braid, and an expanse of exposed muscle.

The man sat next to Brienne and nodded at the group. “Hello. I Cohollo.” Sansa smiled warmly at the man and Tyrion jumped right into conversation. “Ah Cohollo! You missed all the fun earlier. Some of Grey Worm’s men got in a spar with my brother, Pod, and Lady Brienne here.”

The man turned in surprise to look down the table at his right. Grey Worm smiled enthusiastically and nodded in Brienne’s direction. “She kick our ass. Was great.”

Cohollo beamed at the words and nodded. “We fight tomorrow? I like that.”

Brienne’s face flushed at the request as she smiled and nodded in agreement. It did not escape Sansa how displeased Jaime looked at the invitation.

As everyone began to eat, Daenerys again brought attention back to Cohollo and Brienne. It suddenly became very apparent to Sansa what Daenerys was doing. Jaime seemed to sense it as well.

“You know Cohollo, my cousin here knows how to ride. Sel tells me she is quite good.”

“Sel?” Brienne raised a brow at her father who ignored her and spoke to the Dothraki.

“I doubt the horses on Tarth are anything like the horses you boast. I’ve seen some of the mounts you lot brought.”

Cohollo smiled at Selwyn and turned to Brienne. “You ride? You want ride? I have fine horse.”

“She has a horse. I gave her one already.” Jaime’s tone was dismissive and clipped, but Cohollo only shrugged and nodded. “Warrior need a good horse.”

Sansa had to bit back a laugh threatening to escape her lips _. Gods. What will Jaime do next to claim her? Piss on her?_

Daenerys’ voice floated down the table to Brienne again. “Do you see how long Cohollo’s braid is, Brienne? Do you know what that means?”

Brienne looked around the table as though searching for aid before shrugging. “No, I apologize. I don’t know the significance.”

Daenerys smiled warmly and looked to Cohollo. “The Dothraki only cut their hair when defeated in battle.”

Jaime guffawed at the words but said nothing.

Cohollo looked at Jaime in confusion and met his eyes. “You hair short. You defeated a lot?”

Brienne chuckled at the question and Jaime’s face flooded with irritation. “No, I keep my hair short because it makes more sense for battle. I don’t need it flopping in my face when I put my sword through a man.”

Cohollo only shrugged and looked back to his food. “Spoke like man who lose a lot.”

Sansa and Tyrion were shaking with laughter as Brienne sat awkwardly between the two men.

Daenerys muttered and looked back to Brienne, ignoring the men flanking her cousin. “You should ride on the morrow with Cohollo. He is an excellent rider. The Dothraki riders are truly one with their horse. It is a stunning sight to behold.”

Jaime again chuckled and spoke to Brienne in hushed tones that only Sansa’s end of the table could hear. “When I asked if you had known any horses, this is not something I had considered.”

Brienne’s face reddened and she elbowed Jaime hard in the side. Looking uncomfortably between Cohollo and Daenerys, she smiled and nodded politely. Sansa could tell that Brienne wanted none of this attention nor the forced interaction with Cohollo.

As the dinner went on, Sansa and Tyrion continued to enjoy a side conversation, but from time to time, both of their attention was drawn to the trio across from them. It seemed every time Cohollo tried to speak with Brienne, Jaime interjected and made a counter statement.

Sansa felt badly for Cohollo. He seemed kind, but Jaime was having none of it.

Finally, the meltdown happened. Sansa knew it was a matter of time. She had remembered the altercation between Tormund and Jaime at Winterfell and recognized the look in Jaime’s eyes.

Cohollo had made a seemingly innocent comment and gesture. “You hair like Khaleesi.” He touched a loose strand of Brienne’s hair in fascination and Jaime lost it. “Don’t touch her!”

The conversation around the table died abruptly as everyone looked to Cohollo, Brienne, and Jaime.

The Dothraki stared at Jaime in confusion. “I look at hair.”

Jaime was incredulous. “Looking is with your eyes. Not your hands.”

Brienne glared at Jaime and spoke through gritted teeth. “Would you stop? He didn’t mean anything by it.”

Jaime gaped at her like she had lost her mind. “He has his hands on you. I’m sorry, is that suddenly not indecent? Should I just rub my hand all over you heard?”

_Gods, Jaime. Just shut up._

“ _You_ will keep _your_ hand off my daughter!” Selwyn’s voice filled the room as he glared at Jaime.

“Me? I’m not the one who touched her. I think your grievance is with this one.” Jaime pointed in irritation at Cohollo, who still look perplexed by what was going on.

“Khaleesi, I do wrong? I do what you ask. I talk to lady. Be nice to her.” Daenerys shook her head and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“No Cohollo, it’s fine. Ser Jaime is just protecting his _friend_. Things are a bit different in Westeros.”

Brienne looked just as bewildered as Cohollo as her eyes darted between Selwyn and Daenerys. “I’m sorry. Did I appear in need of company?”

Cohollo spoke at her side. “Khaleesi say you need husband. She ask I talk to you.”

 _Oh Gods. This is taking a turn._ Sansa shared a look with Tyrion who looked equally distressed at where this was about to go.

Brienne and Jaime nearly choked on their drinks and both replied at the same time. “What!?”

“Father, are you serious? We had a deal!” Brienne glared at her father who had the grace to look ashamed. Selwyn sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “By the Gods child! What is the harm in the man talking to you?

“Your intentions are the harm in it! You agreed to stop with the betrothals.” Sansa watched as Brienne’s face flamed in anger.

Daenerys placed a calming hand on Selwyn’s forearm and spoke to Brienne. “My apologies, cousin. It was my idea to invite Cohollo. No harm was meant by it. Your father and I were just trying to make you a match.”

“I don’t need a match. My father and I have a deal.” Brienne stared at Selwyn as she said the words.

“That was not our deal, girl. The deal was that I wouldn’t force you to marry someone you couldn’t beat in a fight, not that I wouldn’t trying to make another match.”

Jaime snorted. “Well there goes all of Westeros.”

Brienne rolled her eyes, but Selwyn wanted none of it. “Brienne, I’ve let you run around Westeros playing at knight for years. You need to do your duty to you family now. I think I’ve been more than understanding on the matter. Just ask anyone else from Westeros at this table if they were afforded such flexibility in their match’s selection.”

“That’s not the same and you know it.” A look passed between father and daughter that spoke of old wounds and unpleasant memories.

With a heavy sigh, Selwyn leaned his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. “Why don’t we discuss this matter in private. I don’t think now is the time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post this chapter with the previous (Selwyn POV) to help speed this along a bit.


	13. Family Meeting (Brienne)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne speaks with Selwyn and Daenerys

Brienne was fuming as she trailed after her father and Daenerys; leaving the shocked group at the dinner behind. Looking ahead, Brienne watched as Selwyn and Daenerys spoke in hushed tones, huddled closely.

She felt it again. The anger and jealousy. _She is the daughter he should have had. Powerful, beautiful, and likable. I’m the daughter he was cursed with. I bet he wishes Daenerys and I could swap places._

They walked back through the hall and towards the study that earlier housed Daenerys’ meeting with Jaime.

Upon entering, Daenerys offered them seats at a table near the window and away from a large desk that was set near the entrance. Not surprisingly, Selwyn sat near Daenerys. _Them against me. I’m always alone, even when in a room with family_.

“I will not marry.” Brienne spoke the words as much to herself as she did them.

“Seven hells child will you listen! It was not my desire to force another betrothal on you prior to speaking with Daenerys. When she takes the throne, she needs to name an heir.” Selwyn looked to Daenerys and sighed.

The young woman placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and smiled at Brienne. “You are my only surviving kin and I would name no one else. It is imperative that I name a successor and I am naming you. If I die after claiming the throne, Westeros will dissolve into chaos without an heir. I don’t wan to cause another war.”

Brienne felt herself recoil at the words. “You aren’t likely to die before me, and you are _much_ more likely to have heirs than me.”

Daenerys gave her a sad smile before responding. “Cousin, I can’t have children. Even if I do outlive you, I won’t outlive your heirs. I will die with no one in line to rule.”

The words caught Brienne off-guard. _Can’t have children?_ Brienne shook her head and looked out the window. “Well neither can I, but for an entirely different reason. A man would never lay with me. I’m a sword; nothing more.”

Selwyn leaned back and looked to Daenerys. “Would you please give me a moment alone with my daughter?”

Daenerys stood from her chair and moved around the table. She placed a hand on Brienne’s shoulder and met her eyes. “I see more than a sword when I look at you. I’m hoping we can spend more time together, cousin. I should like to have family that is not entirely mad.”

As Daenerys left the room, Brienne turned back to her father. His brows were knitted in thought as he stood from his chair and walked to the window.

“Brienne, listen to me. I have tried to do right by you. To protect you the only way I knew how. I had hoped to shield you from a marriage prospect you do not want. Now I find that I have very little choice. As Daenerys said, even if she outlives you, when she dies the kingdom will dissolve into chaos without an heir. Your children are to be named next in line after you.”

“Can’t she select someone else? Surely there are others far more capable than me.”

“I said as much to her when we discussed this in-depth. Not that I think you incapable of ruling, quite the contrary, but more to the matter of naming an heir. My preference was for her to name someone else. I was trying to avoid an unwanted marriage for you, but she insists. If there is one thing that girl is obstinate about, it is that the Targaryen lineage is to be on the throne.”

Brienne sighed and stood to approach. “Why can’t she name me heir and then I can worry about the marriage bit later. It’s not as though I must produce an heir here and now.”

Selwyn huffed a laugh and smiled warmly. “No, you better not. I asked that she not declare you her heir until _after_ we’ve made you a match. If she falls and you find yourself unwed, and on the throne, you and I both know what will happen. You will become the next Robert. A man will come for you, only for the crown. He will take his crown, maybe even make an heir, and he will kill you. That is what Cersei did to Robert. That is what power-hungry people do. The curse will simply cycle on.”

Brienne bit her lip and closed her eyes. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run away. She knew should could do neither. Brienne was a woman bound by honor and duty.

While she never thought to be in this position, Brienne better understood why Selwyn and Daenerys were suddenly pressing her on the matter. It merely hurt knowing that no man would ever want her for her. _I won’t give up my sword for any man. It’s all I have to keep me happy and useful in this world._

Brienne though back on her prior betrothals. Only a handful even considered her as a means to win an island. But then they saw her face. _My face wasn’t enough for an island, but what would they endure for the crown?_ _My father has the right of it. I would have suitors for the crown; not my hand._ Then, something he said struck her.

“What do you mean the curse will cycle on?”

With a heavy sigh, Selwyn slumped into a chair nearby. “The curse of incest. Your great-grandfather told my father of it. I thought it some foolish story akin to the type bored, old septas tell children. It’s the other reason I wanted to speak with you alone. The Kingslayer.”

Brienne felt her rage build at Selywn’s use of the unfair moniker.

“His name is Ser Jaime. You would do well to remember it.” She knew her tone was too harsh. Too harsh for anything society would deem acceptable from a daughter to a father.

Selwyn glared at her but grit out his next words with a faux smile plastered to his lips. “ _Ser Jaime._ I don’t like what I’m seeing Brienne. The way you spoke for him. The proximity of him. I fear you… I fear you care for this man as you did Renly.”

The words were like a punch to the gut. Hoovering in the room between them, were the specters of unrequited love. They followed Brienne everywhere and her father never failed to recognize it.

Looking at her face, Selwyn chuckled. “Yes, yes. Your old man isn’t blind. Listen child, the man killed his king at the _end_ of the war. I am less worried with his slaying of Aerys. I hated the man, truly. He hurt my dear friend, Rhaella. I do however find the circumstances suspicious. The Lannisters always pick the winning side; particularly at the conclusion of war. The find a way to worm their way once they recognize who will win.”

“That is not Ser Jaime! He is not his father. You don’t even know why he did what he did. Daenerys heard it and seemingly forgave him. That should tell you something.”

Selwyn scoffed and held her stare. “How do you know he isn’t doing that very thing right now? His sister-lover used wildfire to destroy a city and take out a Great House. In the process, she has earned countless enemies. He doesn’t strike me as a fool. He sees the side he believes will win. If Cersei finds a way to win this war, how do you know he won’t go back to her?”

Brienne again found herself furious on Jaime’s behalf. _He is not like the them_. “So, you think his idea of going to the winning side was leaving behind the safety and security of King’s Landing, where his sister rules, to ride north to a house that has no army? A house in open rebellion. If he wanted to _win_ as you say, why not march his army on the capital and take the throne? He would be a hero in the eyes of Westeros.”

With a conciliatory nod, Selwyn smiled. “No, he won’t march on the capital just as he confirmed today. He won’t do it because _she_ is there. His lover.”

Brienne hated hearing it spoken aloud, but she knew it was true. Cersei and Jaime where something she could never understand; the constant, unyielding love between them. _We don’t get to choose who we love_. Brienne understood Jaime’s not wanting to move against Cersei, but she respected his refusal to stand by her.

“I believe him when he says he will defend the North. That he will recognize Daenerys’ crown should she win it.”

A strangled chuckle escaped Selwyn’s lips as he moved to sit back down. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want him near you Brienne. This might be worse than Renly. He simply won’t do. Even if he doesn’t return to her, the boy committed incest!”

“So did your wife’s parents! So did Daenerys’ parents! I don’t hear you condemning all of them.” Brienne’s face was flushed with rage.

“If you hate Ser Jaime for committing incest, then you hate the products of that relationship. I am a product of incest from mother’s line. Do you hate me too?”

Selwyn stood abruptly and walked towards her, grabbing her arm firmly. “Do not say such things, Brienne! I love you. Don’t you forget that. You misunderstand me. It isn’t that I can’t look past what he did. It is the consequences of his decisions that I can’t urge you away from fast enough.”

Brienne felt her brows knit in confusion. “What are you on about?”

With a shake of his head, Selwyn dropped his hand from Brienne’s arm. “You know of your great-grandfather’s friendship with King Aegon. Dunk and Egg. A friendship to last for generations. There is a reason Aegon was so strongly opposed to the Targaryen practice of incest. A reason he tried to make his children matches outside their line. He told Duncan of it. The curse.”

Selwyn looked to the window before continuing. “Incest goes against the Gods and against the laws of men. Aegon felt those who practice in it, were to be cursed by the Gods for eternity. The outcome of those unnatural unions being death, madness, or worse. Look at what happened to the Targaryens. Madness and death consumed them just as Aegon said. The curse touches them for generations to come. Our family and the Baratheons are evidence!”

“Us and the Baratheons?” Brienne’s tone was laced with confusion as she stared questioningly at her father.

“When my parents noticed that I had fallen hopelessly in love with your mother, they raged about it. They swore that Duncan’s words of the curse were true. That Aemma and any children we sired would die as punishment for her parents’ sins. I didn’t believe them. I thought it rubbish. I thought our love could conquer anything.”

Selwyn’s eyes grew dark as he continued. “We were so happy. Me, your mother, Galladon, and you. I thought we defeated the foolish stories of Duncan and Aegon. Then your mother died, and the twins soon followed. Then Galladon drowned not a year later. At first, I was afraid to go near you. I pushed you away; afraid the Gods would realize they missed one.”

Selwyn snorted sarcastically and shook his head in disgust. “Then I realized the punishment. I tried to find you a match, truly. The Gods grew you taller. Grew you less graceful. Grew you… it’s no matter. I love you so much and I don’t care what Westeros sees when they look at you, but… perhaps I thought, the Gods wouldn’t kill you. They would punish you in other ways. They would deprive you of love. A fate worse than death.”

Brienne stood rooted in shock as her father took a steadying breath. He slumped back into the chair his body previously occupied. “I didn’t know how to make you happy until I saw you with a sword. It is the only time I saw your eyes come alive. The only time I saw you feel accepted. Then you fell in love with the Baratheon boy. Another cursed line.”

Selwyn met Brienne’s eyes. “Your maternal grandmother, Rhaelle. She committed incest of course just as you stand here today as result. When Rhaelle was wed off to the Baratheons after having your mother in secret, the Gods punished their line for her sins. She sired Steffon. Steffon sired Robert, Stannis, and Renly. All three men dead and gone. Steffon himself died young in a freak storm at sea! A Baratheon of Storm’s End killed at sea, Brienne! It’s like a dragon dying of fire. Don’t you see girl!? I fear Daenerys will die too. It is a matter of time. And your friend there…”

Selwyn shook his head, running a hand through his blonde locks. “He sired three bastards on his sister. They started a war! Those children are _all dead_. His sister-love is _going to die_ ; we both know it. He will go back to her if not for love, then for fate. They are fated to die for their sins. Punishment for committing incest.”

Brienne felt as though the room was spinning. “This is madness father. Ser Jaime is not cursed. What happened to the children was tragic, but it was brought on by circumstances of war.”

Selwyn rolled his eyes mockingly. “A war that began _because_ of incest. Brienne, I see the way he looks at you. The way he touches you. The way he leans to you. The way you fight together. I see the it all returned in your eyes. In your defense of him. It can’t be him! I can’t lose you, Brienne! I can look past the boy’s mistake of committing incest, but not the punishment it brings! I don’t want to see you and any grandbabes die because the Gods seek to punish him.”

Brienne looked away and felt her stomach drop. _Is my father mad? This more absurd than hearing Jon Snow rant about dead things marching._ Before she could respond, she thought on the insanity of the topic. _His vision is what has truly gone. Jaime could never love someone such as me._

“You need not worry father. Your assessment is wrong. Ser Jaime has seen your curse from the Gods. An ugly, unlovable beast of a woman. You misread his kindness towards me. Like Renly, Jaime is simply a good man. While he has saved me and respects me, he has also been honest about my appearance. He’ll be no more to me than Renly was.”

Memories of her earliest days with Jaime came flooding back. _Beast of a woman. Uglier in the daylight._

Brienne swallowed thickly as she sat down in the chair beside her father. Folding her arms onto the table, Brienne buried her face within them as she let the implications of everything wash over her.

_I must wed. I must wed a man who will be repulsed by me. Who demand I give up the sword. Who will take another to bed every night as I lay alone. Always alone. I can’t lose the sword. It’s all I have._

“Fine. I’ll wed, but please… give me some say in the matter. I must keep my sword. Also, I don’t want to wed a Dothraki. The man seemed very sweet, but…”

Selwyn chuckled at her words. “I thought as much when Daenerys suggested it. Cohollo seems a good lad, but I could tell you were not interested.”

Brienne exhaled loudly and shook her head. “That’s not it. It matters not if I’m interested. My interest would never be returned so it’s probably easier if I don’t have feeling for the man I wed. I just…”

Brienne stopped and considered her words. Considered how best to explain the fear she felt. “I would ask for someone who will not bring more negative attention than my unsightliness will already bring. Can you imagine it? A woman such as me on the throne married to a Dothraki? No. Please, father. Find a willing man who will be accepted by Westeros and I’ll take my seat in the shadows.”

Selwyn’s eyes widened in shock as his eyes met Brienne’s. She watched as her father moved to speak, but snapped his jaw shut and looked away; sorrow in his eyes. With a sigh, he collected himself and looked back to her. “I’m truly sorry for it all Brienne. I will never regret ignoring my parents wishes and marrying Aemma. I can’t regret it because that would mean regretting you.”

Standing to leave, Selwyn placed a hand on Brienne’s head. “I’m sorry the men of this world can’t see you as I do. Shall we return to dinner?”

Brienne shook her head. “I’m not very hungry. You go on without me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another double post to move things along


	14. History Repeats Itself (Jaime)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime finds out what happened with Brienne.

Jaime could hardly make sense of everything that had just transpired at the dinner table. He felt panic well within his chest. _Are they going to force her to marry? What did Brienne mean by her deal with Selwyn?_

Looking across the table, Jaime observed the shocked expressions of Tyrion and Sansa. As Sansa’s eyes flitted to his, the shock shifted to sympathy. 

Not long after Brienne, Selwyn, and Daenerys left, Daenerys returned. At her presence, Grey Worm, Missandei, Tyrion, and Cohollo, seemed to let out a collectively held breath. Conversation resumed among them, but Jaime could think of little more than Brienne.

Then Selwyn came back alone. _Where is Brienne? Is she alright?_ Jaime’s eyes were wide with concern as the older lord returned to his seat beside Daenerys. Jaime watched as the pair exchanged hushed words in Valyrian.

Jaime felt panic return at the sight of Daenerys pleased smile at whatever Selwyn had said. The older lord glanced his way and his features transformed into thinly veiled disapproval. Jaime knew the look. He had been on the receiving end of it many times from his own father.

“Where is Brienne?” At Jaime’s question, Tyrion and Sansa looked down the table at Daenerys and Selwyn.

“My daughter is not your concern, _Ser Jaime_.” His name sounded strained on Selwyn’s tongue. _He didn’t call me Kingslayer. Something is wrong. If they hurt her in anyway, I will kill them both here and now_.

“Well she certainly seems more a concern to me than to you.” Jaime didn’t wait to see the lord’s reaction as he stood to leave and find Brienne. If the audible gasps from several at the table were any indication, he was living on borrowed time.

Moving quickly through the castle, Jaime found himself outside the room Brienne had been assigned. Knocking loudly, he waited but heard no movement inside. Jaime looked around the empty hallway and thought to try the training yards _. It’s where I would go if I was upset_.

As he moved outside the castle, Jaime saw the familiar form of Brienne drilling with Oathkeeper. He jogged down the steps and approached as her back remained turned.

“Well I feel bad for those shadows.”

As Jaime’s voice carried across the yard, he could see Brienne’s shoulders tense. With a small glance over her shoulder, Brienne sheathed her sword and brushed the hair from her eyes.

“What do you want Ser Jaime?” Somehow her voice seemed smaller than usual. It worried Jaime.

“You didn’t come back to dinner. I wanted to make certain you were alright.” Jaime took some cautious steps forward. He wanted little more than to reach out and hold her.

“Well as you can see, I’m fine, thank you.” Jaime continued to close the gap between them; praying to the seven that she would turn and look at him before he got there.

“Well, I’m not. I had to listen to Cohollo discuss the importance of a pregnant woman eating a stallion’s heart without retching it up to ensure a healthy son is birthed. I don’t believe my appetite will return for days.”

Brienne tipped back her head towards the night sky and groaned in distaste. “Wonderful, thank you for that.”

“See, you can’t marry him, or you’ll never be able to eat again. Surely your father will understand.”

That got the reaction he hoped for and Brienne turned to look at him. “I’ll be certain to add it to my list of objections.”

Jaime cleared his throat and looked to the ground anxiously. “Will they make you marry him?”

Brienne pinched the bridge of her nose. “Not him. Daenerys cares for him too much anyway. They’ll have to find someone less likable to punish with my presence.”

Jaime’s head snapped to look at her. “Well if lack of likability is a prerequisite, I might be their best option.” He tried to keep his tone light, but even he could hear the desperation in his tone.

Rolling her eyes, Brienne looked out across the fields to where the Dothraki camp was enjoying their evening. Jaime followed her eyeline and took in the sights and sounds.

They had a proper fire going and laughter filled their camp. They sang songs and cheered raucously with little care for the unruliness of it all.

“So when were you going to tell me that I murdered your mother’s cousin or that you spoke Valyrian?”

Jaime’s question was laced with mirth, but in truth he was still shocked from the discovery. Brienne stammered to reply, but Jaime only chuckled and shook his head. “Is there anything else you’ve been hiding from me, _Lady Brienne_?”

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him before responding. “I have not been hiding anything. It would have been hiding it, had you asked and I lied.”

Seemingly pleased with herself, Jaime could only chuckle and shake his head. “I do recall saying on our journey through the Riverlands that we should get to know one another. You offered very little, so how would I know what questions to ask?”

Brienne snorted and jumped to reply. “Well it was difficult to get a word in when you wouldn’t shut up.” Jaime smiled wistfully as he remembered the early days of their acquaintance, but it wasn’t long before the day’s events came back to him and his smile died. 

“But… they are going to make you marry?” Jaime cast a sideways glance at Brienne and saw the answer in her eyes before she spoke. “Yes.”

“When?”

Brienne shrugged and a bitter laugh escaped her lips. “Mayhap when they can find someone blind or desperate enough. Didn’t you say your friend Bronn would do anything for a castle? I suppose he would be the type they seek.”

 _I am desperate to marry you. Does that count?_ Jaime cursed inwardly at the situation. He found it absurd that lords had this power over their children. He was saved by the white cloak, but Cersei and Tyrion had not been so lucky. At least Sansa was good to Tyrion and the two seemed to have a fondness for one another.

Then he thought on Brienne’s words and self-deprecation. It bothered Jaime that Brienne could see so little of her own worth and beauty. Then he thought back on the horrible things he said to her once. Things he said in anger.

Jaime had lashed out with intent to wound. To throw her off and get her to make a mistake in judgement. He would give anything to take that all back.

“Tormund was neither blind nor desperate. He definitely wanted to throw you down, tear off your clothes, and…”

Before he could finish, Brienne shoved him hard in the side. “Do not!”

Jaime chuckled and egged her on. “Cohollo did not strike me as blind nor desperate either. He does seem to have a strange affinity for horses, but maybe if he tried riding something else…”

“You are disgusting! Stop it! Regardless, he was only being polite. His queen asked him to talk to me and so he did.”

Jaime laughed, but quickly his mirth died as he swallowed thickly and met Brienne’s eyes. “I am not blind nor desperate…”

Brienne glared warningly at him and Jaime struggled to find the words to express how he felt. Afraid to scare her off or worse, make her think that he was japing.

Reaching for a strand of her hair, Jaime tucked it behind her ear and moved to speak, but the voice of Tyrion filled the yard as he saw his brother and Sansa approaching. _Seven hells!_

“There you both are! You know Jaime, I had to make quite the case to Selwyn to let you keep the other hand after your little fit.”

Brienne’s eyes snapped to Jaime. “What did you do now?”

Jaime felt a rush of irritation at the intrusion on his moment with Brienne and the fear his brother might share with Brienne what he told Selwyn.

“I did nothing! I was nothing, but my usual charming self.”

“Seven hells!” Brienne groaned as she cursed while Tyrion and Sansa chuckled upon approach.

“Yes, charming as always, brother. What are you two doing out here?” Tyrion looked around the yard as if trying to find the answer.

“Well I came out here to watch Lady Brienne vanquish the ghosts of Dragonstone. I’m certain you’ll all sleep better tonight.”

Ignoring Jaime’s useless reply, Sansa looked to Brienne. “Are you alright, Brienne?”

Jaime’s eyes flitted to Brienne and watched as she forced a smile. “Yes, I’m fine. I just wasn’t hungry and came out to drill.”

Neither Sansa nor Tyrion were convinced, and Jaime eagerly provided more information; desperate to seek aid in the war against betrothal plans.

“They are going to force her to marry! It’s absurd.” At his words, Brienne glared at him; her eyes were a storm.

Sansa seemed dismayed for her sworn sword, but Tyrion looked abashed. Something about his little brother’s look unnerved Jaime. “Tyrion. Walk with me. We have so much to catch up on.”

Not giving Tyrion a chance to protest, Jaime grabbed his brother by the jerkin and pulled him forward towards the castle; not sparing a look back.

As they made their way inside, Tyrion grunted in frustration as he tried and failed to remove Jaime’s hand from his clothing.

“Gods, Jaime! Would you let go!?”

Shoving Tyrion into a room, Jaime rounded on him. “I know that look Tyrion! What is going on?”

His little brother huffed in indignation and tried to avoid the topic. “What are you on about, Jaime? I’ve done nothing!”

“Don’t play at ignorance, Tyrion. We both know you are never caught unaware. Why are Selwyn and Daenerys trying to force Brienne into a marriage she doesn’t want?”

With a resigned sigh, Tyrion scratched at his thick beard. “I have an idea, but truly they had not outright discussed _everything_ with me.”

Jaime glared at his brother and awaited more information. Tyrion sighed and spoke in hushed tones. “This doesn’t leave this room. Do you understand?”

At Tyrion’s imploring look, Jaime nodded in agreement. “Daenerys needs to name an heir should she fall after claiming the throne. She insists on naming her only living kin. I’m certain by now you have guessed who _that_ is. Selwyn asked not to announce this until after a match is found. He is worried men will seek Brienne’s hand only for the crown.”

Jaime scoffed. “Tell Daenerys to make her own heir! Why can’t she marry and take care of all that nonsense?”

Tyrion exhaled heavily and looked to Jaime with weary eyes. “She can’t have children. When she dies, she fears war will breakout without a named heir. That means…”

Jaime felt his stomach drop as he finished Tyrion’s sentence. “They need Brienne to marry so the Targaryen line continues.”

“I swear to you Jaime, I have not been involved in conversations beyond that. I know they have had other discussions on the matter. I would have said something had I known of your feelings.”

“What!?” Jaime flinched at his brother’s words.

Tyrion guffawed. “Oh, come now, Jaime. Do you really think you’re that good at hiding it? Daenerys asked me about it before dinner. I think Selwyn even has an idea. Sansa has been japing about it all day. I think the only one who can’t see it is Brienne.”

Jaime took a step backwards as if struck. “I don’t know what you’re on about! She is a good friend and I…”

Taking one look at Tyrion’s knowing face, Jaime stopped talking and looked away.

“Well it matters not. Selwyn seems more than disapproving of me. And Brienne… well she deserves better than me.”

With a heavy sigh Tyrion grabbed Jaime’s arm. “I wasn’t certain if it was a slight infatuation or something more. You love this woman, don’t you?”

The answer was obvious, and Jaime couldn’t help but feel bitter. _I had to watch on when Cersei wed another and now I’ll do the same with Brienne. The gods truly hate me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posting this chapter and the one prior to move things along.


	15. Fleeting Support (Selwyn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selwyn prepares to return home and prepare the Stormlands fleet. He spends time watching his daughter spar again.

Selwyn walked the balcony overlooking the training yards; the sun beating down on the island and reminding him of home. He would be sailing out today with his men.

With the Stormlands agreeing to support Daenerys, Selwyn felt confident about their position in the war. She had ample foot soldiers and three dragons to take King’s Landing. The only thing Selwyn was skeptical about was their naval competency.

No one knew the Narrow Sea like his people. They were islanders after all and Tarth had strong naval forces as did other holdings along the coast of the Stormlands. Selwyn though it best to use the Stormlands naval forces to form a blockade around the Blackwater. To ensure Cersei could not mount an escape by boat.

Daenerys agreed and with Tyrion’s input, they determined Selwyn should head back to Tarth to prepare the Stormlands fleet. They would converge on King’s Landing in a moon’s time. That would give enough time for Selwyn to sail home, prepare the kingdom, and sail towards King’s Landing.

Standing on the balcony and looking down, Selwyn watched Brienne and Jaime training with Grey Worm and another Unsullied again. His mind wandered back to last night’s dinner. It broke his heart to request this sacrifice of Brienne.

It broke his heart more knowing she would agree. When she understood their reasoning, Selwyn knew Brienne would forfeit her own happiness to do her duty. _Gods. Why can’t I find her a match that would at least respect her if not love her._

Selwyn thought back on all the horrible things he overheard spoke of his daughter throughout the years. All the cruelness inflicted on her. He tried to stop it when he could, but he often felt useless; out of his depth. Those were the moments he missed Aemma most.

Watching Brienne with Jaime Lannister was unnerving. He expressed his concerns to her last night. Expressed why he had issue with the boy committing incest. Whether he would go back to Cersei was irrelevant. The damage was done. The Gods scorned.

As he had the day prior, Selwyn watched them together. They moved beautifully as though they were one mind in two bodies. It pained Selwyn to admit, but they were amazing together.

When eventually the Unsullied men left and the pair squared off with one another, it was obvious Brienne was the stronger of the two. Selwyn mused that the Kingslayer was likely a sight to behold when he had his sword hand. Despite everything else, Selwyn would forever appreciate the man saving his daughter from rape; giving the most important part of his identity in the process.

Brienne spun under Jaime’s swing and landed a stiff blow to his back with the flat of her sword. With a loud laugh, Jaime moved back to position after a respectful bow before their swords came together again. Several movements later, Brienne had knocked his feet out from under him and pointed her sword to his neck.

They smiled at each other as though no one else existed and Selwyn groaned inwardly. With an extended hand, Brienne helped Jaime stand. It did not go unnoticed to Selwyn the way Jaime crowded her space, staring into Brienne’s eyes softly and refusing to break contact with her hand.

 _Seven hells._ Selwyn felt someone approach at his side. Turning to greet the arriving party, he smiled warmly as Sansa Stark stood beside him.

“Good morning Lady Sansa.”

“Lord Tarth.”

Selwyn turned back to the yard and crossed his arms across his broad chest. Sansa huffed a laugh as she watched the pair sparring below.

“I don’t know much about fighting, but they always look like they’re dancing together. It doesn’t look that way with other fighters. Other fighters look forced and awkward when their swords clash; uncertain what the other is doing or thinking. It makes the movement less fluid.”

Selwyn chuckled at the young woman’s observation. “You may not be a fighter, but you speak of it as though you’ve watched many a match.”

With a tilt of her head, Sansa conceded the point. “I have older brothers and spent far too much time at tourneys. I always hated it. Who knows… maybe if more fighters moved as beautifully as them, it wouldn’t have been so wretched. Then again, I imagine they move so well together for reasons that wouldn’t transfer to other combatants.”

Sansa’s intonation was not missed by Selwyn. He knew what she was implying.

Selwyn smiled as he watched Brienne’s wide grin. _Another thing I suppose I should appreciate the Kingslayer for._ _He makes my daughter smile_. _Gods why did he have to commit incest!_

With a heavy sigh, Selwyn turned to Sansa. “How has she been? Has she been happy at Winterfell?”

Turning to meet his eyes, the young woman smiled sadly. “She doesn’t smile much, nor does she talk much. Quite honestly, it wasn’t until Ser Jaime came North that I realized her previously offered small smiles were more out of curtesy than authenticity. Now she smiles and it reaches her eyes. Now she is happy.”

Selwyn’s brows furrowed at the words. “When she was little, her eyes only came alight when she had a sword in hand. I think it was the only time she felt she could be herself and people wouldn’t judge her harshly. She always wanted to be a knight.”

Sansa quirked a brow and spoke in a challenging tone. “Pardon me Lord Tarth, but if you think your daughter wants to be the knight rather than marry the knight, than you don’t know her at all. She has a maiden’s heart. She wants love. She deserves it.”

The words felt like a slap to the face and Selwyn could hardly help himself from flinching. With a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, Sansa curtseyed and excused herself. She made her way towards the front of the castle where Selwyn had previously been speaking with Tyrion and Daenerys.

Turning back to the yards Selwyn saw Cohollo approaching the distance with some of his men. _Oh, by the seven. Not this again. Why did I let Daenerys talk me into that one?_

The man was polite and kind; that much Selwyn could tell. Selwyn also knew his daughter well enough to know _that_ match was never going to happen. Her reasoning was sound. Cohollo was a fine man, but as a couple they would never be accepted at court in Westeros.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the scene below, Selwyn observed Cohollo approach and speak to Jaime and Brienne. Selwyn expected another confrontation and fight, but the Kingslayer backed off; eyes down and dejected.

He moved to the rock off to the side of the yard as Brienne offered a polite smile to the Dothraki, the very kind Sansa described, and move into position. Selwyn chuckled as he watched the awkwardness of their match. They didn’t know each other’s style. They didn’t move fluidly. They didn’t know what was coming. It was exactly as Sansa had described.

How did I never notice the awkwardness of melees or singlehanded combat before? Selwyn’s eyes flitted back to the Kingslayer. He wasn’t watching Cohollo. He was staring at Brienne; a soft smile on his face.

The match lasted some time. Cohollo was an excellent fighter. While their styles contrasted, they seemed to enjoy the new experience. Selwyn was surprised to see his daughter best the Dothraki warrior. His weapon fell to the ground and he put up his hands in defense; a wide smile on his face.

The Dothraki seemed in awe of Brienne and clapped eagerly. With a glance back to Jaime and shrug of her shoulders, a smile tugged at Brienne’s lips as she sheathed her sword. For his part, Jaime cheered loudly and clapped his left hand against his forearm above the false hand.

Cohollo said something to his men and put a kind hand to Brienne’s arm, thanking her for the spar. The touch was harmless, and Selwyn could tell that both Brienne and Cohollo respected one another, but neither seemed interested in a match.

The gesture however was not appreciated by the Kingslayer. His jealous eyes followed Cohollo and the Dothraki as they moved out of the yard, but when Brienne back to Jaime, the soft look returned to his face.

He stood from his seat on the rock and began to tease her. Selwyn didn’t need to hear the jape to know it was good natured. As the Kingslayer approached and stood inappropriately close, Selwyn felt he was intruding on a private moment.

There was an intimacy in their proximity that unnerved Selwyn. As they spoke, Jaime’s finger tapped the pommel of her sheathed sword. Selwyn’s eyes narrowed as the Kingslayer leaned in and whispered something that made Brienne chuckle and shake her head with mirth. Then his hand slid to her hip and lingered far too long than was decent.

Selwyn had half a mind to bellow down to them, but he was distracted by his lead commander approaching. “Lord Tarth, the ships are ready. We’re ready to depart when you are.” Selwyn nodded at the man and indicated he would be there momentarily.

 _Time to break this nonsense up_. Selwyn made his way quickly down to the yards; eager to play the role of physical wedge between the pair. At Selwyn’s approach, Jaime stepped back quickly and averted his gaze.

Brienne turned to meet her father’s displeased eyes and the smile immediately left her face. It broke Selwyn’s heart, but he had his reasons. _Gods, why can’t she just see it. I just can’t risk anything happening to her_.

“Daughter, I sail out now.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize you were leaving already.” Brienne’s brows furrowed slightly as she spoke.

“Yes, well Daenerys and I spoke. The Stormlands will send their fleet to aid her siege. We need to ensure Cersei doesn’t try to flee the city by boat.” At Selwyn’s words, the Kingslayer snorted and shook his head.

Selwyn felt his ire spike. “Is this funny to you?”

Jaime looked back to him with wide eyes and shrugged. “Not at all. It just goes to show how little you know the enemy. My sister will never leave that bloody throne. She means to die on it.”

Selwyn was surprised by the words, but only shook his head and looked back to Brienne. “I suppose there is no harm in you writing now. After the war is won, we will renew our _conversation_.”

Brienne swallowed thickly and glanced at the ground. “Yes, father.” Her voice was meek and reminded Selwyn of the young girl who clung to the shadows at Tarth. Not the strong warrior he observed she had become.

Selwyn wanted desperately to hug her, but the look on her face seemed to show no desire for his affection. He had hurt her. He broke her heart by asking this act of selflessness _. I love her so much, but if hating me keeps her alive and safe, so be it_. Afraid of asking for something she didn’t want to give, Selwyn patted her arm and bid her farewell.

Moving to leave, Selwyn gave one last warning look at the Kingslayer before heading up the stairs to bid farewell to Daenerys. As he reached the top of the stairs, he was surprised to find Daenerys already there and surrounded by Tyrion and Sansa. He bid each farewell but pulled Daenerys into a tight embrace. _Gods keep her safe_.

“I’ll write you when the vassals have confirmed readiness for war. We’ll see you on that throne in a moon’s time.”

As he broke the embrace, Daenerys beamed at him and cupped his face. “Thank you, uncle! For everything. I look forward to reclaiming the crown with your support.”

Selwyn turned to leave with his men, but saw Brienne looking at him sadly from the corner of his eye. As he turned his head to meet her eyes, Brienne looked down and fled towards the rear of the castle grounds.

The Kingslayer glared at Selwyn, shaking his head in disapproval; of what Selwyn knew not. Then the lad stormed off after Brienne. _By the seven what was that all about?_

The trip back to Tarth was uneventful. With favorable winds, they arrived in less than one week. Selwyn’s master at arms, Ser Goodwin, greeted him at the dock as the men unloaded the ship. Selwyn debriefed Goodwin and the lead commanders on the plan of attack. They set to the task of writing the vassals to prepare for war.

When he awoke the next day, it was to pure chaos. The bells were ringing out in warning of an attack. It was not unusual for pirates to attempt to pillage Tarth, but Selwyn immediately recognized that this was different.

Quickly dressing and gathering his sword, Selwyn moved quick through the halls. Staff ran up and down the corridors following procedure for an attack. Ser Goodwin was gathering the last of the household guards to ride down to the docks for reinforcements.

The Tarth ships and lower section of the village were ablaze. The attacking fleet was at the docks and its men crowding the streets, laying waste to anyone and anything in their path.

Looking at the sails, Selwyn knew what this was. _Greyjoys. The crown’s new dogs are here_.


	16. Insolent Captives (Cersei)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei consider what to do with her new captives.

Cersei sat on the throne and tapped her fingers impatiently against the cool iron comprising the seat of power. It had been a week since the cow’s father was brought to her by Euron. The insolent man had refused to give them anything to go on.

Qyburn went so far as to try potions to dull his sense and mind. The Mountain beat the older lord until he was unconscious. Cersei ordered little to no rationings of food and water.

Still, the older lord gave nothing away. Cersei had to muster all her restraint to not kill the man outright and dump his worthless body in the Blackwater. But no. They needed him for something far more important.

Abruptly, the doors at the back of the throne room burst open. Cersei’s thoughts of the obstinate lord from Tarth were quickly pushed to the back of her mind as her new gift was dragged into the room. Olenna Tyrell.

Petry Baelish walked before the guards who dragged the Queen of Thorns down the aisle. Olenna’s hands and feet were bound in chains. Her body lacking its typical attire and head cover. For the first time in years, Cersei recognized her for what she was. A vulnerable, old, frail woman.

With a sly smile mirroring her own, Baelish bowed to his queen and moved his hand back towards Olenna.

“Your Grace. On behalf of your loyal subjects in the Vale, I’ve brought you the traitor responsible for the murder of King Joffrey Baratheon. The Tyrell forces have been vanquished and summarily disposed of. We have also removed all coin from High Garden in compensation for the crown’s troubles in having to procure additional _resources_ for defense.”

As Baelish spoke, two of the soldiers brought forth chests filled to the brim with coin. A wide smile stretched across Cersei’s face as she took in the sight before her. The feeling of unchecked power coursed through her body and a tremor of satisfaction hummed through her limbs. 

Standing from her throne, Cersei moved down the steps to approach Baelish and the ancient whore from High Garden. Her hips swayed smoothly as he skirts brushed across each passing step. Her voice filled the throne room as she spoke; honeyed poison for the ears.

“Well Lord Baelish, I must say that I am most pleased with your efforts. We have much to discuss regarding the reinstitution of your talents into my small council.”

Cersei came to a halt steps from Olenna. The older woman’s eyes were heavy with disdain as she defiantly tilted her chin at Cersei. It was a scene reminiscent of Ellaria Sand and her bastard after being dragged into the throne room so many moons ago.

“Lady Olenna. How good to see you back in the capital and looking so well. I wonder, could you smell the stench of your son and children burning all the way from High Garden?”

The malice in Olenna’s eyes gave Cersei the victory she had sought but failed to receive when Selwyn was brought to her chained and pushed to his knees. Not to be outdone, the Queen of Thorns glared at Cersei and spoke resolutely. 

“I imagine the smell was no worse than your bastard born of incest as he choked on his pigeon pie and voided his bowels on stage for all the kingdom to see. Tell me, did you and your brother at least wait a day before trying to recreate his sorry existence or did you dive under the furs that night?”

Cersei felt her blood boil and her hand twitch against her thigh. Raising her hand high, Cersei slapped Olenna with everything she had in her. The High Garden matriarch chuckled and looked back to her as her left cheek turned an angry shade of red.

Leaning close to Olenna’s face, Cersei gritted her teeth and spat at her. “You treasonous cunt. I will have your head for that, but first I will make you watch as your pretender queen is snuffed out.”

Cersei stood upright and spoke commandingly. “Take this whore to the black cells. She and Lord Tarth can rot together until their false queen shows up to attempt a daring rescue.”

Turning to exit the throne room, Cersei’s progress slowed when she heard Olenna’s laughter and defiant voice echo off the rafters.

“It’s a funny thing, really. Usually Baelish here can do little more than spin lies and play his games. For once, he got it right. It was me. I want you to know that. I want you to see my face when the image of your son’s purpling face flashes across your mind.”

Cersei shook with rage and her eyes went wide. Turning back to Olenna, Cersei’s mind raced with the many forms of torture she would inflict upon the woman when the time came. Cersei steeled herself and looked to her Hand who was steps behind her.

“Qyburn. I don’t like the words that roll off her tongue. Remove the appendage. It has always been useless for little more than insolent barbs.”

A fleeting panic swam in Olenna’s eyes as the former maester stalked towards her. Directing the guards to his experimentation room, the Queen of Thorns was again dragged away by the Vale soldiers.

Turning to Baelish, Cersei inclined her head. “Lord Baelish, lets discuss the state of affairs in my kingdoms.”

The conniving lord turned towards Cersei; his lips curling into a vicious smile. “Yes, your Grace.” As he fell into step beside Cersei, she pondered what his end game was. Surely, he sought more than a place on her small council. They all did.

To Cersei, it seemed obvious what he desired; her body and crown. _What else could he want from a powerful, beauty such as me? Its what Euron’s lascivious stares begged for, but did not give voice to_.

Entering her solar, Cersei glided into the room and turned to see Baelish enter; the Mountain right behind them. Little Finger cast an uneasy glance towards the looming figure who moved towards the corner of the room, but he spoke nothing of the added presence.

“Tell me. What do you truly desire from the crown? Surely you seek more than a place at my council.” Cersei moved to the wine goblet set out on a corner table. She brought the cup to her lips and swirled the liquid against her tongue.

Taking a step forward, Little Finger kept his eyes fixed on her. “I seek no more than you would offer. In whatever capacity you wish me to serve, I will.”

Cersei felt her core clench at the answer. The words reminded her of Jaime. Hers to command and do as she bid. Her twin was little more than her lapdog, carrying out her every desire. A rage filled Cersei at the memory of her now shattered mirror image. _He left me for that cow!_

“Tell me than Lord Baelish… what devious plans has that mind of yours concocted to help me retain my throne?”

A faint smile tugged at the man’s lips as he appraised her. “We need to take out the traitors in the realm. First there is the matter of Dorne. While less organized with their prince and heir being feasted on by worms, their fighters are still strong and seeking revenge. With Ellaria back in Sunspear, the head of the snake must be taken out. We have the Reach’s liege lady. I recommend we send missives to the vassals indicating that they are to march on Dorne and take out the sand snakes. If they refuse, Olenna dies. I don’t imagine persuading them will be difficult to accomplish. Dorne and the Reach have a strained past.”

The prospect of turning her enemies against each other brought Cersei a greater deal of satisfaction than taking them out on her own. Refusing to give away this pleasure to Little Finger, Cersei raised her chin and challenged him again.

“And beyond Dorne, what next?”

Little Finger took another step closer, his lips tugging higher despite staying pressed together. “The dragon queen. I know how we can destroy her entire army. We send them a letter telling of their allies’ capture. They’ll need to cross the Narrow Sea to attempt a rescue and siege, but Euron’s fleet will be waiting for him. Blocking their path. There are significant stores of wildfire in the city. They will launch it at the incoming fleet just as was done to take out Stannis’ fleet. There will be nothing left of her army save the dragons.”

 _The dragons_. Yes, Cersei had been thinking of that too. Qyburn had taken her into the bowels of the keep and shared his new weapon. _The scorpion_. With Dorne, the Reach, and the dragon queen taken out, there would be limited numbers to deal with throughout the rest of Westeros.

As if reading her mind, Baelish continued. “Of course, there would be some forces left to deal with. The Stormlands would likely rebel at the capture of a key leader. Word of Walder Frey’s demise has reached my ears. It is a matter of time before the Tully’s try to amass their forces and reclaim their ancestral seat. They would likely align with the North. Lady Sansa’s people will recover and with it, their rebellion will grow stronger. The Golden Company will have little trouble addressing these remaining issues.”

A thrill of excitement coursed through Cersei’s veins. _There will be no one left by the time my war elephants and army of mercenaries runs them through._

Cersei’s mind began to turn as she considered what would urge her enemy off Dragonstone the fastest and with the least consideration for how best to mount an attack. Then it came to her. A wicked smile tugged at her lips as she raised the wine goblet to her mouth.

“I believe your permanent council will be of much use to the crown. Take the instructions to Euron. He awaits my command back at the docks. If he wants what he seeks, he needs to continue to work for it.”

With a bow and a glint in his eye, Little Finger left Cersei. Moving to her desk, Cersei reached for a parchment to begin her missive.

Dipping the quill to the ink, Cersei took pause and considered her approach once more. Her mind again went to her twin. _I’ll make his precious cow suffer_. Deciding what to do, Cersei wrote her letter before summoning Qyburn. He would need to perform one more bodily alteration today.

_To the Targaryen whore,_

_You may soon find your allies unable to reply any call for aid. I have your precious Olenna Tyrell and Selwyn Tarth in my black cells. The island of Tarth is now little more than a pile of ash. High Garden an empty castle._

_If you believe you will take my crown, you are sorely mistaken. You and your beastly cousin will be the end of the Targaryen line, but as I am a kind queen, I will offer you a deal._

_Send me the cow and I will send you Lord Tarth. If you don’t accept my offer, I will instead send pieces of Lord Tarth every day until nothing remains of him. As assurance of this promise, I start by including with this missive a finger. I trust you’ll recognize the ring._

_Give me the cow or prepare to knit together the pieces of her father._

_Queen Cersei Baratheon_


	17. Promises Between Cousins (Daenerys)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys and Brienne get some time together before a message from King's Landing arrives

It had been just over fortnight since Selwyn left for Tarth. Missives flew back and forth between Winterfell and Dragonstone at rapid pace during that time. Days prior, Sansa finally came to Daenerys with a decision.

“My brother and the vassals have confirmed that they will bend the knee when you claim your crown. Their only ask is a request for aid in defending against threat’s north of the wall.”

Daenerys felt a relief wash over her at the words. “Of course. They will be a part of my kingdom; the largest part in fact. Any issue that plagues them, plagues me.”

Sansa smiled warmly and nodded her thanks, but quickly offered additional insight. “I warn you, my brother has claimed to see things marching against Westeros. I myself struggle to believe his words, but he claims that what marches south, marches for us all.”

Sansa, Pod, Brienne, and Jaime had planned to move out yesterday, but another raven flew in from Winterfell and changed plans. This particular missive caused cracks to appear in Sansa’s cool, northern mask.

Daenerys had grown accustomed to the young woman showing little to no emotion, so it was quite a shock to watch her reaction as she read the latest missive.

“Arya returned home!” Sansa glanced to Tyrion and Brienne with joy writ across her face. Tyrion was genuinely happy for Sansa; a wide smile on his face as he nodded encouragingly. Brienne and Jaime shared a knowing smile; as though a weight had lifted which was previously unspoken.

Daenerys watched as Brienne’s smile quickly dropped when Sansa continued to read the missive. “She is on the way to Dragonstone to aid the war against Cersei. Something about Cersei being on ‘her list’. Truly, I never know what Arya is on about, but if you don’t mind your Grace, I would like to stay and await her arrival.”

Daenerys was happy to continue playing host to the small group and saw it as an opportunity to get to know Brienne better. It baffled the queen to see her cousin’s morose expression at Sansa’s request. For his part, Ser Jaime seemed pleased to delay returning north, citing the weather better suited him.

The queen had watched Ser Jaime closely since his confession in her study. He was certainly a different person than the stories of the evil Kingslayer that her brother shared while they grew up in exile.

While she wouldn’t describe Jaime as her favorite person to be around, she did take note of one rather intriguing thing about him. He was hopelessly in love with her cousin.

Daenerys’ first inkling of Jaime’s affections for Brienne came the day they arrived. While glaring at him from atop her seat, she noticed how he looked to Brienne with soft eyes and an easy smile. Physically, Jaime would lean towards Brienne as if claiming her without words. 

Daenerys had asked Tyrion about it before the feast, but her Hand admitted to only having observed the behavior for the first time that day. Interestingly though, Tyrion _had_ noticed.

Then of course there was that debacle of the feast. If it wasn’t obvious enough that Jaime was in love with the woman, his blatant jealousy of Cohollo was plain for all to see. Daenerys’ chuckled to herself and half expected the man to run off and find a crimson drape to place over Brienne’s shoulders.

In truth Daenerys didn’t mind his behavior. She found it strangely endearing and observed that the only time Brienne seemed genuinely happy, was with Jaime.

Before Selwyn left for Tarth the morning after the feast, Daenerys inquired about a match between Jaime and Brienne.

“Did you notice Ser Jaime’s behavior towards your daughter yesterday? We hardly need to ask Cohollo or any man to consider her. Ser Jaime is clearly smitten. She seems quite fond of him too.”

She was excited to share her observation with Selwyn. Having been forced into an arranged marriage herself, she understood the anxiety and trepidation Brienne was likely feeling. The prospect of approaching Brienne with a match that could genuinely make her happy thrilled Daenerys.

What Daenerys had not expected was Selwyn’s reaction. His face reddened in anger and his tone brokered no argument. “No! It can’t be him. Anyone, but _him_.”

Selwyn stated that he had his reasons, but he didn’t care to share them. While he seemed conflicted over the decision, Daenerys could tell that his mind was set on the matter.

Daenerys resolved to seek another match for Brienne for a few moons, but if she found no potential suiter, she would push Selwyn on the topic of Ser Jaime. _If I have forgiven Ser Jaime’s crimes against my family, surely Selwyn could._

That night, Daenerys sought to spend more time with Brienne and get to know her better. Her hope had been to try and understand her cousin. She wanted to bond with her only living kin and furthermore, she wanted to know what would make Brienne happy in a match.

Daenerys sat at a table on the balcony in her room. A jug of wine had been placed for them and Daenerys reflected on everything that had happened within the last moon. Brienne knocked to announce herself and Daenerys jumped to get the door.

“Cousin! Come in!” Moving into the room, Brienne smiled politely as Daenerys closed the door behind her.

“Please, sit with me.” Daenerys moved to the balcony and sat down. She watched as Brienne moved into the chair across from hers with a slight awkwardness. The taller woman hunched in slightly; an uncertain smile on her face _. Is she uncomfortable with me? She spoke so commandingly the day we met_.

“We haven’t had much time together since you arrived. I’m quite excited to finally have sane family to be around. My brother was… like Aerys. I understand you had a brother once.”

Brienne’s face eased slightly, and she nodded. “Yes, Galladon.”

“What was he like?”

At Daenerys’ question, Brienne’s brows furrowed. “I don’t much recall. I was four when he drowned. I think he was kind. The staff were very sad when he passed. Well… everyone was. The island was fond of him from what I’ve been told.”

Daenerys reached to place her hand atop Brienne’s forearm. “Well fortunately they still had you.”

An uneasy smile flitted across Brienne’s face as she fidgeted and looked down. “Yes, well having me as an heir is likely the same thing as losing an only heir.”

Daenerys was not sure what to say to such a comment. Her cousin proved more and more an enigma. On the one hand, she was one of the strongest and most confident fighters she had ever seen.

Her men proved incapable of getting to Brienne during the sparring matches that Daenerys observed. Brienne was able to best her strongest Dothraki warriors and her leading Unsullied soldiers. Brienne made it look easy.

On the other hand, she was one of the most insecure people Daenerys had ever met. It was evident she had no drive for power nor recognition. She never spoke positively about herself; even when others offered praise. Her blush was strong enough to start a fire in the hearth.

“Well they are fools then. I know you’ll make a fine heir for me.” At the mention of being heir, Brienne sighed and looked out across the horizon. “Tell me cousin, what was Selwyn on about regarding you only marrying a man you could best in a fight?”

With a sigh, Brienne looked out over the balcony to collect her thoughts. “The third match my father brought was older than him; roughly five and sixty. No one else would have me, so I suppose he became… desperate. The man demanded that I put away the sword and wear a dress rather than breeches. That he would _discipline_ me if I refused. I told him that only a man who can best me, could do such a thing. So, I fought him. The match was easily won, and he left worse off than he arrived. I told my father that I would never marry a man who couldn’t best in a fight.”

Daenerys chuckled at the story and took a sip of her wine. “I’m horrified that uncle tried to marry you off to some old man , but I’m most pleased to hear that you handled the situation. I shall be certain to find you a match who can properly spar with you.”

Brienne bit her lip and met Daenerys’ eyes. “May I ask something of you, your Grace?”

“Brienne, please. We’re cousins. Just call me Daenerys or Dany if you prefer. My brother used to call me Dany and I’ll admit that I miss the familiarity of the name. Ask anything.”

With a nod of understanding, Brienne continued. “When you decide on a match, can you please make certain the man sees me first? I don’t mean to make acquaintance, although that likely wouldn’t make things any better for him. Just to _see_ me.” Brienne gestured to her face and body.

Daenerys felt her mouth gape slightly at the request _. Gods. How can she speak this way of herself?_ Brienne appeared panicked at Daenerys’ inability to form an immediate reply and rushed to explain.

“I’m sorry. I know that will complicates things. You’ll likely go through suiters rapidly and it will take _much_ longer. I just don’t want them caught unaware. That happened before and it was… I don’t wish for the embarrassment again. And… I understand that he will wish to take another, but if he lets me keep the sword, I will take the tradeoff.”

“Brienne. I don’t know what your expectations are, but neither your father nor I wish to force any man on you. We just ask you to consider the men we introduce you to.” 

Brienne’s brows furrowed slightly. “Did he not tell you of my past betrothals? I know what I am… what I look like. I only ask that the man agreeing to marry me knows what I look like too.”

Daenerys smiled sadly at her cousin. She had hoped to avoid the topic; fearful she could not sway Selwyn, but her cousin wasn’t hurting and she couldn’t have that.

“Your self-assessment is warped, cousin. I don’t know what drove you to feel this way about yourself, but in the time that you’ve been here, I’ve already seen at least one man who seems quite taken with you.”

A sly smile flashed across Daenerys face as Brienne looked to her in confusion. “Ser Jaime is _very_ handsome. Don’t you think?” At Daenerys’ words, Brienne’s face flushed, and she looked down at her hands with a shy shrug. “He is a good man.”

Daenerys chuckled. “Well he seems a bit annoying to me, but that’s not what I meant. He would make a fine match.”

Brienne glanced at Daenerys through her lashes but kept her head down. “I think he would make you a fine match.” Brienne spoke the words more to her lap than Daenerys.

“Oh Gods! Not for me, Brienne! He would hardly consider me anyway. He is completed besotted with _you_.”

Brienne looked up in shock. “Oh, no. You misunderstand. Ser Jaime is a good friend. Well… I don’t mean to assume he consider me a friend… but I consider him a friend.”

Daenerys smiled inwardly. _She is taken with him too. I must speak to Selwyn about this to better understand what the issue is. If I’m to be queen, surely I could overrule him if the reason is frivolous_.

“Brienne I am not blind. Anyone with eyes and a brain can see he is smitten. It’s quite amusing to watch.” Daenerys’ chuckled slightly.

Brienne began to protest, but before she could get a word out a knock sounded at the door. Daenerys placed an apologetic hand on Brienne’s arm and bid the guest enter.

Tyrion strode into the room, a stern expression on his. “Your Grace. Lady Brienne. I need to speak with you both at once. This just made its way to our shores.”

Daenerys took the letter from Tyrion’s hand and eyed the bag in his other hand warily. She read it quickly before her eyes darted to Brienne; her mouth agape and her eyes wide in shock. She slowly looked back down at the letter and reached for Brienne’s hand.

“What? What is it?” Brienne’s inquiring voice filled the silence as Daenerys passed the letter to her cousin.

Brienne read the note and Daenerys watched as her face paled. Both women looked to the bag and Tyrion’s face set into a grimace. “I can confirm the contents. It might be best that you don’t…”

Before Tyrion could finish his sentence, Brienne grabbed the bag and looked inside. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Slowly, she reached into the bag and the finger with her father’s ring still around it. The ring of the Evenstar.

Daenerys stood and quickly put the finger back into the back. “Brienne, we’ll get him back. I swear it to you.”

“Write to Cersei. Let her know that I accept the exchange.” Brienne stared at the bag as she spoke the words; her eyes filling with dread.

Tyrion interjected before Daenerys could. “No! You don’t understand my sister. She only means to imprison you both. Then she will have all three of you.”

“We have to try! Tyrion, please. It’s worth trying.” Brienne’s eyes were desperate as she grabbed his arm.

Daenerys shook her head and reached for Brienne’s shoulder. “I won’t allow you to sacrifice yourself, but I am moving on King’s Landing now. There is no time to waste.”

Tyrion gasped and looked to Daenerys. “Your Grace! No, please. You don’t understand, my sister wants you to rush in without a plan.”

Daenerys rounded on Tyrion; her eyes a violet storm. “She has my uncle! She has Lady Olenna! I will not sit by idly while my allies are held and tortured! I leave tonight.”

“I’m coming with you.” Brienne’s voice rang out; as confident as it had been the day she arrived at Dragonstone.

Fear coursed through Daenerys. _I can’t lose her. My only living family. I can’t risk her trying to offer herself to Cersei while I attack the city_. “No, cousin. You stay here. I swear to you that I will get your father back.”

Brienne’s eyes narrowed in frustration. “Please! She sent a bag with my father’s finger! Let me fight for him.”

Daenerys shook her head and moved to exit the room. “I need you safe. You’re my heir. I will get him back. This ends here and now. Enough precautions. We’ve sat idle on this island while Cersei amasses strength and our allies in King’s Landing.”

Moving quickly out the door, Daenerys shouted for Grey Worm. When he came running, she spoke hurriedly in Valyrian. With a stiff nod and determined look, he set off with his order. All the men were to make their way to the ships at once. It was time.

Along the way, Sansa, Pod, and Jaime heard the commotion and saw the desperate pleas from their friends. Brienne continued to trail after her while distantly, Daenerys overheard Tyrion speaking with Jaime and Sansa.

“Please, Dany!” At her beloved nickname, she turned to meet Brienne’s imploring eyes. “Please! Let me fight for my father!”

Jaime came running to them. “No! Don’t do this! Brienne, you’re staying here. Daenerys, this is a terrible idea! My sister may be mad, but she has a plan. I swear to you that she is doing this for a reason! She means to provoke you. This is a trap!”

Daenerys would hear none of it. _She has my uncle. She is torturing him. She wants to capture and kill my cousin. She has Lady Olenna._

“Get Brienne inside, Ser Jaime. I can’t risk losing my cousin.” Marching forward across the grassy field, Daenerys looked to the skies for Drogon. It was dark out as the sun had set long ago and the wind was whipping cross the island.

As if summoned by thought alone, the dragon came swooping down from the skies; sending the rest of the group stumbling backwards.

Brienne continued to scream and beg and it broke Daenerys’ heart. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Jaime wrap his arms tight around Brienne as he stood behind her. Jaime had his cheek pressed firm against Brienne’s, desperately pleading with her. “Brienne! Please! This isn’t the way!”

Daenerys climbed atop Drogon and took flight. Below her, the Dothraki and Unsullied hurried to collect their weapons and make their way down to the beach. _Hold on uncle. I’m coming_.


	18. Storm at Sea (Brienne)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne reflects on what has happened and takes action.

Brienne watched as Daenerys rose into the sky atop Drogon. Fear for her father consumed her and she could do little more than scream in anger. She felt helpless and small. Jaime kept his arms firmly wrapped around her; his cheek pressed to hers as he begged her to stay. Begged her to see reason.

 _What reason! Your sister sent one of my father’s fucking fingers!_ “Please Brienne. I’m so sorry. We’ll fix this. I’m so sorry.”

Sansa approached with eyes wide in sorrow. “Brienne. Listen to me. I know how you feel right now better than anyone. Cersei did this to my father too. This is what she does to families. She destroys them. But… Ser Jaime and Tyrion are correct. This is a trap.”

At Sansa’s words, Brienne stilled. With sorrow in her tone, Sansa took a breath and continued. “I hate to say this Brienne, but he is either dead or soon to be. Cersei won’t give him up.”

“No! No, she made an offer. She can take me instead. I’ll go to her.” Brienne could feel the tears in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

She felt Jaime stiffen at her back. “No! Brienne, I won’t let you do this. You just need to calm down and we’ll figure this out. Come inside, please. Please, Brienne.”

Shaking her head, Brienne couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t find the words. She didn’t want to go inside. She wanted to get on a ship. She wanted to go to King’s Landing and fight for her father.

It was the only thing she knew how to do. To fight for the people she loved. She would never know the feeling returned, but she could fight for others. People who were loved by those around them and whose presence would be missed. People who were important. People like Lady Sansa. Her father. Daenerys. Ser Jaime.

Spinning Brienne to face him, Jaime placed his hand on her cheek. “Please, Brienne. We’ll figure this out. Please, just come inside.”

His eyes were locked on hers; pleading. Brienne looked over his shoulder to see Pod and Sansa looking imploringly at her. Tyrion’s face was ashen as he watched the forces descending towards the beach.

The younger Lannister was muttering at a barely audible level. “They’re making a mistake. This is what she wants.”

Swallowing deeply, Brienne looked back to Jaime and nodded. His body sagged with relief and he smiled warily at her. He took her hand in his and pulled her back towards the castle.

They moved into Daenerys’ study with Tyrion, Pod, and Sansa to discuss the situation. Brienne could barely hear them. All she could think of was her father. She knew what she had to do. Too much time was passing, and she needed to leave.

Standing from her seat, Brienne announced her departure. “I need to rest. I’ll see you all on the morrow.” Pod, Sansa, and Tyrion nodded and offered a sympathetic smile. Jaime eyed her suspiciously. “Let me walk you back to your room _.” He doesn’t trust me. He knows._

“I’m fine. Honestly. Stay here with them.” Moving to leave, she felt his hand grab her arm. “I’m tired too. I’ll walk you back.” With a slight shrug and nod, Brienne let him accompany her to her room.

Approaching her door, Brienne could feel Jaime staring at her. “Brienne, I’m very sorry about this.”

“It’s not your fault. Your sister did this, not you. I just wish Daenerys had accepted the exchange.” Brienne’s voice was distant; her mind already elsewhere. Thinking about what she had to do.

“Don’t say that! My sister would kill you, Brienne. She wouldn’t make it painless either!”

“Better me than my father! He is of use. I have no value as prisoner or to anyone. I don’t even know why she offered the exchange. Do you think it is because I helped Sansa? Will she go for Sansa?” Brienne’s eyes went wide and panic set in as she considered the reason Cersei had requested the exchange.

 _Gods. Please don’t let harm befall Sansa_.

Jaime grabbed her arms and locked eyes with her. “Don’t say that! You have more value than you realize. Well more than Selwyn and you’re… you’re important to me, Brienne.”

Brienne looked to Jaime and saw his face flame red. He nervously rubbed at his eyes.

_Does he know something? Does Cersei mean to expose the Starks?_

“It’s true, isn’t it? She means to get to Sansa! Jaime, please. Promise me that if anything happens to me, you will watch over her.”

Jaime nodded and looked around the hallway. “I… I think she has other reasons. I don’t think it’s Sansa. She might know that I went North… and that I’m here with you.”

Brienne snorted and moved to enter her room. “She would not have kidnapped my father and asked for me in exchange if she was upset that you went north. I think she’s after Sansa. Gods. I need to keep her safe.”

Jaime rubbed at his neck and moved to say something but closed his mouth promptly. Turning to bid him goodnight, Brienne was surprised to see Jaime standing so close. She flinched slightly from the shock of it, but she quickly recovered.

“I’ll see you on the morrow, Ser Jaime.” Brienne smiled weakly but Jaime didn’t move.

“You’re certain you’re alright?” His eyes were apprehensive as they met hers. Forcing a smile, Brienne nodded.

Jaime hesitated before slowly backing out of the doorway. “Just… just don’t forget how important you are, Brienne.” His eyes sheepishly met hers as they bid each other goodnight.

Closing the door slowly, she took a deep breath and moved quickly to the balcony. She could see the last groups of men awaiting the rowboats to get to the ships. _I still have time._

Brienne looked down at the ground below. With her height, if she hung down from the bottom of the railing, she could likely land without injury. The guest rooms were on the main floor, but the ground below was on a slope; dropping off towards the cliffs.

Moving quickly to the desk, Brienne took out a pen and quill to write a note to Sansa. She stuffed the pillows under the furs to mimic her sleep form. Then she placed the note on the first covered pillow. _I’m sorry Sansa. I need to save him_.

Brienne strapped Oathkeeper to her waist but left her armor behind. She would join the Unsullied and Dothraki on the ships but planned to sneak into the keep to accept the exchange. _My father is more valuable to Westeros than me. No one will mourn my death, but many will mourn his_.

Brienne moved to the balcony and looked to the other balconies at her right and left, ensuring no one would see her. Climbing to the other side of the railing and lowering herself down until she dangled off the edge, Brienne looked down and braced for impact.

The fall stung slightly, but as she guessed it wasn’t too far of a drop to cause injury. She moved quickly to the steps that would take her down to the beach below.

The dark of night covered her trail as she soon approached the last group of awaiting soldiers. Grey Worm stood with the last group and barked orders in valyrian. As she approached, he spun to greet her; a wide smile on his face. _Thank the Gods. He doesn’t know Daenerys told me to stay._

They spoke in valyrian and Brienne indicated she was going to join them in the fight. As the last rowboat came to collect them, she looked back at the distant castle and firelight inside. She felt terribly for lying, but she hoped they would understand.

As the rowboat pushed back from shore, Brienne looked to the night sky and said a silent prayer. _I’m coming father. Please hold on._

Brienne was pleased to find the last boat was filled entirely with Unsullied soldiers. The Dotrhaki were kind, but the language barrier and cultural differences were at times overwhelming to Brienne. They were incredible warriors and very loyal, however Brienne found them altogether too loud and too scantily clad.

By comparison, the Unsullied were reserved and stern; more akin to Brienne’s personality. She also spoke their native tongue and related to their attitude of service first. Chasing their own wants and needs was not something they seemed interested in.

Brienne wanted to be happy. She wanted love. But she knew in her heart it would never be an option. It was easier to dedicate herself in service to others than chase things she could never have.

When she found sleep that night, it was restless and filled with nightmares. Nightmares of her father being tortured. Of Tarth burning. Of failing everyone. As she awoke in a sweat, Brienne distantly heard the cries of Drogon from above.

The dragon slowly followed over their ships on and off. Grey Worm explained that given the speed with which it could move, Drogon and Daenerys would fly to a neighboring island to rest before coming back to soar above them.

It was nearly impossible to see her in the night sky, but when the sun came up, Brienne could see the dragon’s outline above the clouds.

The next day passed quickly as she had spent much of the boat ride speaking with Grey Worm. She had grown fond of the Unsullied commander.

He was kind and loyal. Dedicated to his training and his men. He showed her how to use the spear and some of the Unsullied fighting tactics.

He had taken a shine to Jaime too. Jaime always had a million questions whereas Brienne learned more by watching. Grey Worm helped Jaime adapt a spear style that would accommodate one hand.

Brienne also noticed Grey Worm’s affection for Missandei. It seemed a pure, sweet love. A small part of Brienne felt a pang of jealousy. _I wish I could have what he has. A warrior and with someone to love_.

With the sky darkening and the sounds of laughter across the fleet dying down, Brienne made her way below deck. Closing her eyes, she found herself again restless.

Then she heard the explosions. Everyone was quickly up and on deck. There in the distance, Brienne saw the incoming fleet. Brienne’s heart leapt into her throat as she took in the sights and sounds around her.

Nearly two-thirds of the fleet were ablaze in green flames and smoke. Wildfire! The screams of dying men filled the night sky. Burning flesh and wood assaulted Brienne’s senses. Brienne looked to her right and saw Grey Worm approach; the look on his face mirroring her own.

He began barking orders at the men to steer the ship to the portside. To sail around the incoming threat. They were not ready for an attack by sea. From the skies above, Brienne saw Drogon dip below the cloud cover and breathe fire onto the enemy ships.

Drogon’s fiery breath lit up the night sky and Brienne could see the sails of the attacking fleet. _Greyjoys_.

As Drogon shot a line of fire down on the Greyjoy boats, Brienne felt panic rise. The fire was setting off the wildfire caches stored on the Grejoy fleet. An explosive combination of death and destruction.

As their ship tried to veer around the Greyjoy fleet, a sudden blast of green fire erupted from the starboard side.

The last thing Brienne remembered seeing were pieces of the destroyed Greyjoy boat flying at her. Then everything went black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double posting this and the next chapter (Jaime POV)


	19. Waiting (Jaime)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime finds out that Brienne left Dragonstone.

_Jaime jogged to the beach and saw Brienne throwing her things into the rowboat; readying to meet the awaiting ship._

_“Brienne. This is a trap. Cersei is going to kill you.”_

_Brienne refused to look at him and kept preparing the rowboat. “Have you ever run from a fight? She has my father.”_

_Jaime moved quickly to her and spun her around. Placing his hand on her cheek, he spoke beseechingly. “You’re not less valuable than your father, you’re not! She is going to kill you Brienne! Please stay! Stay with me!”_

_Brienne’s hand moved over Jaime’s and slowly took it from her face. “You think I’m more valuable than my father? I’m not. I have no value to anyone. I have nothing but failed betrothals. I’m a great beast of a woman. I’m uglier in daylight. I’m just a sword.”_

_Getting into the boat, Brienne pushed offshore and didn’t look back. Jaime dropped to his knees and screamed out to her; begging her to come back._

Jaime awoke with a start, gasping for air and in a sweat. Looking around, he realized that he had fallen asleep in the room beside Brienne’s. He had left the door open to the hallway; fearful she would try to leave in the middle of the night.

Racing into the hallway, he saw that her door was still closed. Jaime reached for the handle and pushed it open slightly. He needed to see her and know that she was safe. He needed to tell her how valuable she was to everyone. He needed to tell her that he loved her.

When Brienne spoke in the hallway the night prior, Jaime’s heart broke hearing her words. _How can she think she has no value? How can she think her life is worth so little?_

Jaime had moved into the room next to hers and replayed their conversation over and over. _She thinks this is all because Cersei wants to get to Sansa. I know Cersei is doing this because I love Brienne._ _Cersei has always been able to see through me._

Jaime had feared for some time that Cersei knew of his feelings for Brienne. He was petrified that word would get back to Cersei of the meeting at Riverrun and letting Brienne through siege lines. It was bad enough that he had to explain his secreting Brienne out of King’s Landing after Joffrey’s death; her person equipped with his sword, new armor, coin, and Tyrion’s squire.

Cersei had come to Jaime and accused him of betraying her for Brienne. He had never been more frightened in his life. He couldn’t let Cersei get to Brienne. When he saw Brienne at Riverrun, the relief he felt was palpable.

Pushing open the door to Brienne’s room, Jaime resolved that he would confess everything. A wave of relief hit Jaime when he saw her under the covers.

“Brienne. Brienne, are you awake?” Jaime moved to the bed, but the shape under the covers was wrong. As he got closer, Jaime realized what had happened. Throwing back the covers and seeing the note, Jaime’s heart stopped.

_Lady Sansa,_

_I’m so sorry that I didn’t request leave, but I need to try and save my father. I intend to accept Cersei’s terms for exchange. My father is far too valuable where I am not. Please, let Pod know that he is to guard you in my absence. I’m sorry for failing you._

_Brienne_

Jaime ran into the hallway screaming for Tyrion. His heart was racing wildly, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Tyrion!!!” Jaime pounded his fist on the door; the crumpled note in hand.

Tyrion pulled open his door in a daze just as Sansa and Pod emerged from their rooms looking equally bewildered. “What is it? What’s happened?”

With panic in his eyes, Jaime thrust the letter into Tyrion’s chest and barged into the room. “She’s gone! Tyrion, we have to get her back! We have to stop her!”

Tyrion read the letter and groaned. “Fucking hells.”

Sansa and Pod came into the room, but Jaime hardly noticed. With a heavy sigh, Tyrion looked passed Jaime to the window. “What time is it?”

Jaime began to pace wildly like a lion trapped in a cage. “Who gives a shit what time it is!? She is gone, Tyrion. If she gets to Cersei…”

At the thought, Jaime felt himself start to hyperventilate. He struggled to find the words and to breathe. _She can’t die. I have to get to her_.

Tyrion eyed him warily and reached for Jaime’s arm. “Jaime. I need you to sit down. Try to remain calm.”

“I can’t calm down! Tyrion, you know what Cersei will do to her! Please, Tyrion. This is what you do. You outsmart people. I need you to outsmart Cersei on this one, please!”

Jaime watched as Tyrion handed Sansa the note; the young woman digesting the information. “Seven hells!”

“My thoughts exactly.” Jaime spat the words and kicked one of Tyrion’s chairs across the rooom. Struggling to breathe, Jaime squatted and covered his face in his hands.

Jaime heard Tyrion’s rapid footsteps and felt his brother’s presence at his side. “Jaime. Jaime, I need you to breathe.”

 _I can’t breathe! I can’t calm down! Stop asking me do to stupid shit!_ Jaime could feel his chest tightening and the room felt as though it was closing in on him. 

Sansa moved quickly across the room and dropped in front of Jaime, cupping his face in her hands. “Jaime! Look at me. You need to breathe. For Brienne. Breathe for Brienne.” The words seemed to break Jaime from whatever daze he was in.

Jaime nodded and took a steadying breath; closing his eyes as he tried compose himself. Tyrion righted the kicked over chair and maneuvered Jaime into it. Meeting Jaime’s eyes, Tyrion spoke soothingly.

“We’ll figure this out, but it’s the middle of the night. We can’t get to her right now. We’re on an island with no boats. Please. Just _try_ to relax and believe me when I say that we will figure this out.”

With a resigned sigh, Jaime nodded in understanding. The rest of that day was a nightmare. Jaime paced around the castle wildly as if he could somehow summon Brienne back to Dragonstone by thought alone.

Tyrion and Sansa spoke at length about the situation. They passed the time running through various scenarios and plots to get Brienne back to safety.

Like Tyrion, Sansa was a strategist. Jaime didn’t understand the way their minds worked, but he had never appreciated it more. _Individually they are smarter than Cersei. Combined they are a force_.

Jaime was like Brienne. He was a fighter. He didn’t think, he acted. By comparison, Tyrion and Sansa fought their battles with their mind; not a sword. Jaime couldn’t help but wonder over how they worked so well together.

To Jaime, the way Tyrion and Sansa strategized and considered all angles of a situation was so succinct; like two parts of one brain working in concert to find the solution.

It reminded Jaime of how he felt when he fought with Brienne. It was as though their bodies were an extension of each other. Filling the opening where another was left vulnerable. Swinging while the other ducked. They just knew what the other was thinking and how to move as one.

Jaime finally stopped pacing and sat down beside them. After they considered various options, Tyrion mused that at least things could not get much worse. That night, they realized just how much worse things could get.

Not long after they had retired for the evening, Jaime heard a dragon approaching. _Fucking hells. Why didn’t the dragon queen take all three of those beasts_. Moments later, someone came storming through the castle doors and screaming for Tyrion. _Daenerys_.

At once, all four of them were out of their rooms and moving to meet Daenerys at the door. Her eyes were wide in shock. _Oh no. What has happened?_ Jaime watched as Tyrion grabbed Daenerys’ arm and guided her to a chair in the hallway.

“Your Grace. What happened?”

Daenerys recounted the events and estimated that at least three quarters of their forces were destroyed. Drogon was able to take out the entire Greyjoy fleet, but the damage was done.

At Daenerys words, Jaime felt his body stiffen. _Brienne. I’ve lost her. Cersei won’t get to torture her because she just killed her with wildfire_. He was trying and failing to keep a neutral expression as Daenerys relayed the information.

He felt sick. His eyes clouded with tears as he slowly backed away and excused himself. Everything around him began to fade away. Distantly, he heard Daenerys question Tyrion. “Where is my cousin?”

Slipping into his room, Jaime felt a mix of sorrow and rage. He had lost everything. Brienne was gone and the world was darker for it. He began pounding his flesh hand into the wall and screaming obscenities. It was as though he was outside his body, watching on.

Jaime was like a wounded animal; distraught and thrashing at anything coming near him. Tyrion’s voice was soon behind him, but Jaime couldn’t process the words. His head was ringing as he kept pummeling the wall. “Jaime. Jaime, we don’t yet know. She could be on one of the remaining ships.”

Blood from Jaime’s knuckles began to smudge the wall as his hand swelled angrily. Unexpectedly, Jaime felt a hand grab his arm. Jaime’s wild swings stopped, and he rested his forehead on the wall, gasping for air and tears streamed down his face.

Jaime wanted to kill Cersei himself. _She destroys everything good in this world_.

Dropping to his knees, Jaime screamed and brought his arms up to cover his head. Crouching at his side, Sansa rubbed soothing circles on his back. “She grew up on an island. Maybe she was able swim to another boat. Or maybe her boat is one of the few intact. We just need to wait and see.”

Jaime felt Sansa wrap her arms around him and place her head on his back, shushing him as his body shook with sobs.

Jaime felt a presence move in front of him and looked up to see Tyrion’s eyes locked on him. His little brother crouched down and spoke quietly. “Jaime, we don’t know yet. Sansa’s correct. She could be fine.”

Jaime grabbed Tyrion’s jerkin and begged. “I can’t lose her. Please. Please, Tyrion. Fix this.” Jaime watched as his brother’s face deflated. There was no amount of scheming or strategizing that could fix this.

Jaime knew they had to wait and see, but he couldn’t. He was ready to swim out to meet the incoming ships himself. Tyrion swallowed thickly and his voice was heavy with sorrow. “Just a day or so, Jaime. They should be back soon. Daenerys said it is too dark to get a count or see who is left, but the boats were already turned around when she flew back here.”

Everything was a blur. Everything hurt and Jaime didn’t want to do anything except sit on the beach and wait. Somehow, Tyrion and Sansa navigated him into bed.

They flanked him on each side as he sobbed face down into his pillow. He felt empty; hollow. When the tears dried up, Jaime’s body shook with dry sobs.

He could hear Sansa and Tyrion whispering to one another from over him. They were sitting on the bed with their backs to the headboard as they spoke; Sansa’s hand continuing to rub soothing circles on Jaime’s back.

“Did she say how many boats remained?” Sansa’s voice.

“I wonder how many barrels were used and how many are in King’s Landing.” Tyrion’s voice.

“Can she fly over the boat tomorrow and check?” Sansa’s voice.

“Mayhap she can fly low enough to get her off the boat.” Tyrion’s voice.

“Do we have a healer among her forces?” Sansa’s voice.

Jaime didn’t know how long the spoke for but sleep soon took him. His body emotionally spent. When he awoke the next day, it was to a light knocking at the door.

Rolling over in the bed, Jaime noticed the sun’s rays pouring through the window. _How long have I been asleep?_ The door opened to reveal Sansa, Tyrion, and Daenerys. Moving into the room, Jaime sat up and rubbed away the vestiges of sleep.

His eyes felt swollen and heavy. His throat hurt from screaming and sobbing. His heart felt heavy. The group eyed him worriedly and Jaime saw that Sansa had a cup of tea in her hands. “Try to drink this.”

Murmuring thanks, Jaime watched as Daenerys and Sansa pulled up chairs as Tyrion climbed onto the bed. Jaime pulled his knees up to his chest as the group settled into their seats.

Daenerys’ own eyes were red and her cheeks stained with tears. “I’m so sorry, Ser Jaime. I should have heeded your warning. Yours and Tyrion’s. Now I cost us everything and…”

Looking down, the queen stopped speaking, but Jaime knew what she was bout to say. _Brienne_.

Collecting herself and taking a deep breath, Daenerys looked back into Jaime’s eyes; new resolve in her own violet pair. “I have more forces across the Narrow Sea. I’m going to call them here. The Second Sons; a group of sellswords that I left to rule Meereen my absence until the people choose their leaders. My chosen commander, Daario, wrote a moon ago to inform me that leadership was chosen and stable in the city. That his men had sailed to Pentos as I had previously requested. They await my word. There are only 2,000 of them, but with what remains of my Dothraki and Unsullied, it might be enough.”

With a heavy sigh, Daenerys continued. “I’ll also call Dorne and the Stormland vassals that committed support. I don’t know what remains of the Reach, but Tyrion will help me reach out to the vassals. Of course, I still have the dragons.”

 _It won’t be enough_. Jaime had never hated anyone as much as he hated Cersei in that moment. “I’m calling my men. The West has the largest army in Westeros. We’ll march on Cersei and remove her.”

The three in the room looked wide-eyed at each other before turning back to him. Tyrion spoke first. “Jaime, you don’t need to do this. I know you don’t want to move against her.”

“I want her dead, Tyrion! If Brienne isn’t alive on one of those boats, I’ll kill Cersei myself.”

Daenerys sucked in a deep breath and glanced to Tyrion. _Why don’t they believe me? Why don’t they think I will go through with this? Cersei may have killed Brienne!_

With a hesitant nod, Daenerys met his eyes. “Thank you. I’m going to fly over the ships and see how many we have left. With favorable winds, the ships will be back tonight or early tomorrow.”

Standing to leave, Daenerys spared a final glance towards Jaime. “I’m truly sorry.”

Sansa and Tyrion lingered in the room as Jaime stared into the teacup in his hand. “Do you want me to write to Genna for you?”

Jaime shook his head. “No, I’ll do it. I’m a slow writer. It will keep me distracted.” With a slight nod, Tyrion moved off the bed and left the room with Sansa. With a heavy sigh, Jaime looked out the window to the sea. _Brienne, please be on the ship_.

The day dragged on slowly and Jaime eventually found himself sitting on the beach, staring into the horizon. He had sent ravens to Genna informing her of plans to march on Cersei. Addam would call the banners and prepare the men to march on the capital.

The wind whipped across the beach and Jaime prayed it would push the ships forward faster. As the sun dropped in the west, Jaime could see the faint outline of incoming ships. His heart raced and he stood on the beach; pacing back and forth.

It wasn’t long before Daenerys, Sansa, Tyrion, and Pod made their way down to wait with him. Daenerys had flown over the remaining fleet earlier. She said it was near impossible to estimate the number of surviving soldiers as most were below deck. The winds too violent to fly lower and try to speak with the crew on the top deck.

Missandei, Sansa, and the women from the Khalasar readied themselves to treat the injured. Those in poorest condition would need to be seen by a healer from the Khalasar. Daenerys said she the woman had treated many a grave injury in the past and was highly skilled.

They collected all medical supplies left behind by Stannis’ former maester and setup different areas to place the wounded; one area for the most gravely wounded and one for soldiers with minor wounds.

Jaime’s heart beat wildly as the first rowboats began to come ashore. He stopped pacing and stared out at the water in anticipation. He had never felt more frightened in his life.

Sansa moved to his side; her eyes also fixed on the incoming boats. His fear was mirrored in her eyes. The first two waves of rowboats had gravely injured Dothraki warriors and a handful of healthy Unsullied to row and help them injured ashore.

Daenerys and Missandei directed the women from the Khalasar. Healthy Unsullied soldiers, Pod, and Jaime helped carry the injured up the steps at Dragonstone. After each rowboat cleared out, the Unsullied rowed back for more wounded.

The third wave of rowboats came ashore, and Jaime felt his chest tighten. At the rear of one rowboat was Grey Worm. His head was heavily bandaged, but the commander otherwise appeared unharmed. When Grey Worm’s eyes landed on Jaime, his eyes fell.

Jaime muttered to himself as he felt Sansa’s hand grab his arm. “No. No. No.” As the Unsullied at the front of the boat jumped into the water and pulled the boat onto the sand, Grey Worm looked down at his feet and bent over. His arms lifted something; and Jaime saw her head. Her blonde hair stood out in stark contrast to the black of Grey Worm’s armor and the dark of night.

Running into the water beside Grey Worm, Jaime saw Brienne. Like Grey Worm, her head was heavily bandaged. Around her waist was more heavy bandaging with blood thickly coating it. Her face was void of any color and she was cold to the touch; unconscious and not responding to Grey Worm’s maneuvering of her body.

Jaime frantically put his hand to her neck and felt the faintest pulse; barely a flicker under his fingers. With all the strength he could muster, Jaime reached in and scooped Brienne up in his arms. She was heavy, but lighter than Jaime expected.

Bringing her to shore, he placed her on the sand and cradled her to his chest. “Brienne! Brienne, wake up!” Sansa ran to him and began appraising the wound at her waist; lifting back the tunic, she gasped at what she saw.

Brienne had been impaled in the side by a piece of wood. Grey Worm jogged over and kneeled in the sand. “We leave in wood or she bleed out. We break off bigger part that stick out.”

Sansa looked back to Daenerys who was fast approaching them. “She needs the healer!” Daenerys took one look at the wood in Brienne’s side and gasped. Jaime couldn’t hear any of it. He was holding Brienne close and pleading into her ear to wake up; placing light kisses against her temple.

Daenerys grabbed Jaime’s shoulder and met his eyes. “Ser Jaime, can you get her into the castle? We need better lighting. I’ll get the healer.” Her face was stricken as he imagined his own was. With a wordless nod, Jaime stood and lifted Brienne in his arms.

_Fuck. That’s a lot of steps. I suppose I did tell her once I was strong enough._

Jaime moved quickly with Brienne in his arms while Sansa and Tyrion trailed after him. He prayed to the Gods to keep Brienne alive. Looking down at her face as he rushed to the castle, he worried at how pale and cold she was. _She lost too much blood_.

Entering the castle, they moved into the first guest room on the left. Tyrion and Sansa threw the furs off and went to fetch hot water from the kitchen. It wasn’t long before Daenerys and the Dothraki healer made their way inside; a bundle of supplies in their arms.

The healer looked to the wound and said something to Daenerys in Dothraki. Daenerys and the woman spoke back and forth urgently, while Jaime could do little more than look on in worry.

“What did she say? What is happening?”

Daenerys sighed and pulled him back from the bed. “She needs to get the wood out in its entirety or infection could set in. Then we’ll need to stitch Brienne up and pray the Gods have mercy. She has lost a lot of blood.”

Jaime looked back to Brienne and resolved that he would not rest until Cersei was buried in the deepest layers of the seven hells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double posting this and previous chapter (Brienne POV)


	20. Prayer Wheel (Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan is developed for the march on King's Landing. Sansa and Jaime worry over Brienne's recovery.

It had been two days since they pulled Brienne from the rowboat and took appraisal of their losses. Daenerys had roughly 20,000 remaining of her initial 100,000. Her forces plus Jaime’s 10,000 men from the West should still give them more than enough to take King’s Landing, but Jaime and Tyrion made it clear that the dragons could not be used inside the city.

Jaime shared information on the tunnel system in King’s Landing and were the wildfire had been stored. Tyrion estimated the volume of caches of wildfire likely remaining.

With Tyrion’s intimate knowledge of wildfire stores from the battle of the Blackwater and using an estimate of what Cersei used on the Narrow Sea, they gathered there was still enough remaining to destroy the whole of King’s Landing. Unless Daenerys wanted to rule over the ashes, it was imperative that she keep the dragons outside the city walls.

The Stormlands and Dorne had been notified of the effort to converge on King’s Landing in 3 weeks’ time, but they didn’t expect much support from Dorne.

Varys shared that Dorne was under attack by the Reach. His little birds whispered of Cersei dangling Olenna’s life before the Reach as a means to get them to take out their Dornish allies.

The two kingdoms never had a pleasant history as it was, and given the threat against Olenna, it did not take much to convince the Reach to march on Dorne.

The Stormlands forces had been depleted from the recent wars and loss of the Baratheon line. They had a mere 5,000 men to offer; both foot soldiers and naval forces.

When it came time to develop a plan for the siege, everyone was in agreement; Jaime was to lead. He knew King’s Landing and the enemy better than anyone. Sansa was impressed by his military prowess and how well he considered all elements of the plan.

He was also fiercely determined to end the war quickly; his eyes constantly darting to Brienne’s unconscious form in the bed.

Sansa caught Tyrion’s eyes and smiled every time it happened. _Oh yes… we must have every war strategy meeting in Brienne’s room, because Jaime refuses to leave her_.

As much as Jaime’s attachment to Brienne’s bedside had become a jape, Sansa did find it strangely sweet. He had been a human disaster since the initial discovery that Brienne had fled Dragonstone. When he finally had her back, he wouldn’t let go.

Pod and Grey Worm had to pull him from the room kicking and screaming when the healer began to work on Brienne’s injuries that night. The only positive to come from such a horrible situation was Jaime’s resolve to end Cersei.

On the nights Sansa stayed awake with Tyrion, sitting on the balcony and enjoying each other’s company, they mused how Daenerys’ lost most of her army, but gained Westeros’ best military leader.

Daenerys’ confidence and resolve grew as Jaime laid out the plan of attack. Earlier that day, Daenerys had flown across the sea on Drogon to expedite word to Daario that the Second Sons would be needed in King’s Landing. Their army would bring an additional 2,000 men to battle, but they were highly skilled and had successful helped lay siege before. It would take roughly 3 weeks before they were in position outside King’s Landing.

Jaime would need to leave Dragonstone on the morrow with Daenerys’ remaining Unsullied and Dothraki to meet with the West’s forces near Brindlewood. That would give Jaime and the remaining men enough time to meet with the West’s forces, lay out the plan, and move closer to King’s Landing. 

Most surprising to Sansa was word from Varys’ sources that Baelish was behind the attack on High Garden. Baelish had taken the men from the Vale and all intelligence on Daenerys and her allies to Cersei.

It was a lot to digest, but Sansa felt more confident knowing they had a plan and they _should_ have enough men and resources to take down Cersei.

With Daenerys on her way across the Narrow Sea and the remaining forces preparing to leave on the morrow, Sansa sat enjoying the quiet of Brienne’s room. Almost quiet. Jaime had been prattling on throughout the afternoon. _Gods he talks a lot_.

That morning before Daenerys left, the healer came to check on Brienne. Brienne had not yet woken up from her injuries; likely on account of the poppy they had been giving her. Fever had taken her body last night. Despite their best efforts, she had an infection.

Brienne’s body was working overtime to fight the infection and the healer placed a salve for the wound and gave her a liquid by mouth to help the healing process. The woman said that if Brienne made it through the night, she should survive. It was not a guarantee however.

Sansa looked down at the nearly completed prayer wheel in her hands. As a child, she learned how to make one from her septa and mother. They told her that a mother could make them to protect her children.

_Well Brienne doesn’t have a mother. I’m not certain she ever had a true father. It’s up to me to protect her now._

Sansa heard that her mother made one for Jon once, but she had otherwise only seen one used when the baker at Winterfell made a prayer wheel for her sick newborn. _It didn’t work. Will this?_

Jaime had been pressed against Brienne in the bed since the healer came in and gave the grim diagnosis. Sansa imagined it would do little use to tell him to rest in his room for the night. It seemed they would be sharing the space; staring worriedly at Brienne’s prone form.

Sansa hummed as she worked and considered how poorly the wheel was looking. Sitting up on the bed, Jaime looked to see what Sansa was doing. “What the fuck is the bird nest for?”

Sansa snorted and shook her head. “It’s a prayer wheel. A mother makes them to keep her children safe.”

A sly smile tugged at Jaime’s lips. “Is there something you and Tyrion aren’t telling me?” Sansa felt her face flush as she threw an excess twig at Jaime before returning to her work.

“You’re insufferable. Not half as amusing as you think you are.”

At her words, Jaime became morose again. “Brienne always says that.”

 _Seven hells. This man_. Sansa sighed and looked back to him. “I’m making it for Brienne on behalf of my mother. Since Brienne doesn’t have a mother of her own, I imagine my mother would have made one for her if she was still alive. I imagine my mother would have loved Brienne very much.”

“I imagine she _did_.” Jaime huffed the words and looked back at the wheel. “It is supposed to look like _that_?”

With narrowed eyes, Sansa exhaled audibly. “What is that supposed to mean.”

She could tell Jaime was biting back a laugh as he appraised her work. “It just looks like a little… off.”

“Do you even know what it’s supposed to look like?” Sansa glared at Jaime who could no longer contain his laughter.

“I mean all the twigs are just poking out at the sides. Is Brienne mean to wear it like a little hat?”

“It is not a hat! I’m going to put it above the bed.”

Jaime was laughing loudly and shaking his head. “No, you can’t do that. With all that shit hanging out the sides, it could impale her again. We don’t need to pull anymore wood out of her body.”

Sansa was trying to maintain a serious expression, but she couldn’t control the laughter forcing its way through her lips. Admittedly, it didn’t quite look like the prayer wheels her mother and septa made in demonstration.

Flinging it at him, Jaime flinched, but caught it in time. Looking to Brienne, Sansa grunted in frustration. “You think you’re so smart, you finish it.”

Adorning the wheel on his head, Jaime chuckled as the little twig figures meant to represent the Seven hung down into his face. _Oh, this man is a proper idiot_. “It’s like a crappy battle helm. Maye she can wear it in her next fight.” 

“The twigs here are too dry! This damn island didn’t have much in way of materials.” Sansa tried to defend herself, but her protest came out weak and she knew it.

Jaime wasn’t paying her mind anyway. The fool that he was, Jaime was rocking his head back and forth to make the little figures sway. Sansa covered her mouth and chuckled into her hand at the sight of it.

Before he could mock her prayer wheel further, Tyrion entered the room and looked bewildered at the sight of his brother with the thing on his head.

“Brother… what… what is that?”

Jaime looked back to Sansa with mischief in his eyes. “Your lady wife… apologies, former lady wife… means to impale Brienne with more wood. She has fashioned this little hat for her and intends to shove onto her skull.”

Tyrion looked on in confusion and leaned around Jaime’s side to meet eyes with Sansa. “It’s um… lovely. What exactly is it though?”

Sansa stood up in a huff and snatched it off Jaime’s head. “It’s a prayer wheel! It was coming along quite nicely until this idiot ruined it.” Sansa quickly fixed some of the bindings and sat back down to finish it off. _It is the thought that counts anyway_.

Tyrion chuckled, but smiled warmly as their eyes met. The all too familiar flutters returned to Sansa’s stomach. Groaning at the sight, Jaime flopped backwards dramatically on the bed. “Gods just renew your vows already and take it elsewhere.”

Sansa scoffed and looked at Jaime indignantly. “Oh, you’re one to talk! Pining away like a green boy.”

“I do no such thing. I pine like a handsome lion.”

Rolling her eyes, Sansa looked to Tyrion who leaned in and whispered. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

Sansa saw the seriousness in Tyrion’s eyes as he spoke, and it stirred an unease in her. _Now what’s gone wrong?_

Exiting the room, Tyrion looked back to the door and dragged Sansa further down the hallway. “I don’t think we should let him stay in there tonight.”

“What?”

Tyrion sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not decent.”

_What is he on about? When has Tyrion ever cared about anything decent?_

“Tyrion, what is going on?”

Taking another look back towards the room, Tyrion tilted his head to meet Sansa’s eyes. “I don’t want him getting hurt. You’ve seen the way he has been since we found out Brienne left to join the fleet. He’s too far in emotionally.”

Sansa pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. “Why is this an issue? I am very confident Brienne feels the same way. Daenerys and Selwyn want to make her a match, but Jaime and Brienne have clearly chosen each other even if they haven’t spoken the words.”

Tyrion’s eyes fell and it made Sansa’s stomach drop. “….Tyrion. What is it?”

“Selwyn won’t allow it. Daenerys and I spoke on it the night of the attack. She saw the way he reacted to word of Brienne’s likely death. She is worried about him or Brienne getting too _attached_.”

Sansa’s brows furrowed as she took in the words. She shouted in hushed tones so as to not be heard by Jaime. “Daenerys is the one who wanted Brienne wed! This should work out perfectly for her. Who cares what Selwyn says? She’s to be queen.”

Tyrion tipped his chin to the ceiling in frustration. “She doesn’t want to go against Selwyn. She feels obligated to honor his wishes on the matter given everything he did for her. Apparently, Selwyn already told Brienne that she can’t marry Jaime.”

Sansa snorted. “And Brienne probably laughed in his face because she had no idea Jaime loves her. I bet she wouldn’t have accepted her father’s decision if she thought marrying Jaime was an option.”

With a grimace, Tyrion peered back to the room. “Do you truly believe Brienne feels the same way? Daenerys seems to think Brienne does.” 

“Well it’s true that she is _significantly_ harder to read than your brother, but I can tell. She never smiles unless Jaime is around. She would also never let anyone touch her the way Jaime does. I would stake the North on it that she reciprocates his feelings, even if she isn’t half as dramatic about it.” Sansa rolled her eyes as she spoke, and Tyrion chuckled lightly.

“My brother has been a bit obvious, hasn’t he?” Tyrion stroked his beard and his words came out as much a statement as it was a question.

With a sarcastic expression on her face, Sansa scoffed. “It was painful enough _before_ the attack on Daenerys’ fleet happened, but since that night…” Sansa’s tone dropped and the mirth faded as she took a deep breath. “I worry for him too. That is, in the off-chance Brienne doesn’t feel the same way.”

Tyrion exhaled loudly and met Sansa’s eyes. “Daenerys said she will look for a good match for Brienne and if nothing comes up over the next few moons, she will approach Selwyn again about considering Jaime.”

“We’ll do our part to convince Selwyn.” Sansa paused before continuing; a sly smile at her lips. “And if he doesn’t agree… we’ll figure out a different approach.”

Tyrion feigned horror. “Lady Sansa. How scandalous of you.” The pair shared a knowing look and laugh. Sansa felt her chest clench slightly as the corner of Tyrin’s lips tugged into a wide smile. _Gods. I love him._

Feeling daring, she replied to Tyrion. “I would quite like Brienne as a goodsister… even if it means enduring your brother for the rest of my days.”

At her words, Tyrion’s features went soft as he reached out for her hand; bringing her knuckles to his lips. “You were always the better half of our pairing as well.”

Sansa felt her cheeks redden, but then the matter of Jaime and Brienne came back to her. “Well, I’m going to sit with Brienne. If you want him out, you’re the one delivering the news. Not me! You’ll likely need half a dozen of Grey Worm’s men with you to get him out.”

Walking back to the room, Sansa smiled to herself knowing Tyrion would be trailing after her with a matching smile on his face. As she moved to reenter the room. She stopped in the doorway and her heart fell.

Jaime was holding Brienne in his arms as both slept. He had placed the prayer wheel over the headboard as Sansa said she would do.

At Tyrion’s approach, Sansa turned to look at him. She shook her head slightly and whispered. “You’re not moving him either. Let him have this.” Tyrion looked into the room and sighed heavily. “This is going to break him.” _I know. We’ll fix this_. Sansa slowly closed the door and ushered Tyrion away..

When morning came, Sansa awoke in Tyrion’s bed. Her arm flung across his chest as their heads pressed together. They had spent the night plotting how to get Selwyn to accept Jaime. After a few glasses of wine, they fell into bed together. Nothing more than passionate kisses, roaming hands, and warm embraces.

Sansa knew she loved Tyrion, but she still held back physically after her experience with Ramsay. Tyrion was kind and patient though. He made her feel at ease and japed at how it took Sansa running away from him, to allow him to sleep on something other than a chaise lounge within a shared space.

With a lingering kiss to Tyrion’s lips, Sansa rose for the day and slipped back to her own room. She looked out the balcony at the flurry of activity in the yards. The Unsullied, Dothraki, Pod, and Jaime were set to leave today for Brindlewood that morning.

 _Brienne. Gods let her be well today_. At the thought of her friend, Sansa raced down the hallway to find the door to Brienne’s room ajar. Sansa was about to move inside, but she saw Jaime come in from the balcony and sit on the edge of the bed. 

His body was facing Brienne, with his right leg tucked under his left. Brienne was still unconscious, but her coloring looked better. _Thank the Gods_.

She was about to move away when she heard Jaime’s voice. “I’m sorry that I won’t be here when you wake up. I want to be, but I must go save your father. I’m sorry my sister did this. I’ll make sure she pays for it.” Sansa saw as his left hand brushed a lock of hair from Brienne’s face.

Jaime leaned down and placed a soft kiss to Brienne’s forehead. “I love you, Brienne. I’ll come back for you.”


	21. Helping Hand (Baelish)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baelish, Cersei, and Qyburn plot as the Golden Company arrives.

Baelish leaned against the wall in the queen’s chamber as Cersei looked out from her balcony. The ominous presence of the Mountain stood in the corner as Baelish glanced over his shoulder to see the undead creature.

“Where are my elephants? I specifically said that there must be elephants.” Cersei’s tone dripped with disdain as the parade of Golden Company sellswords approached the gates of King’s Landing. She spun in her black dress to face Qyburn; a dark contrast to her short, golden hair.

The exiled maester’s raspy voice carried across the room from the table he stood near; pouring the queen her requested glass of wine. “Your Grace, I do believe the beasts are still loaded on the ships. We’ll need to let Captain Strickland know where to place them for battle.”

Qyburn shuffled to the balcony and handed Cersei her cup, only to be met with a sharp glare. “Tell Captain Strickland that if he doesn’t have my elephants on those boats, he may as well stand before the scorpions himself. Our archers could use some practice with the contraptions.”

A nefarious smile tugged at Baelish’s lips as he watched the maester stammer slightly at Cersei’s words; his mind struggling to identify if this was an actual order or more of the queen venting. “Yes, your Grace.”

Cersei turned to Little Finger and appraised him. “What news do you have for me today?”

Baelish’s eyes darted to Qyburn who stood just behind Cersei. The Hand’s face contorted in irritation as Cersei had taken to seeking Baelish’s council oft late regarding whispers outside of King’s Landing.

“I bring word of your brother, your Grace.” At the mention of Jaime, the queen’s lips curled in disgust. “What of him?”

“He commands the false queen’s remaining armies and has called on the West. They are soon arriving at Brindlewood to combine forces.” The information brought forth an explosion of wildfire in Cersei’s eyes.

“What remaining armies!?” Cersei wheeled on Qyburn who took a small step back at the sudden movement. Cersei’s nostrils flared as her breathed began to quicken.

“Your Grace, my sources tell me that Euron’s fleet removed the threat against you. That…” Before Qyburn could finish, Baelish cut him off.

“Your sources are wrong. I imagine the problem with you relying on Varys’ little birds is that they are just that… little. You need larger wings to identify threats outside the capital. My sources can confirm that Daenerys still has men yet. Passing ships reported a number of her fleet returning to Dragonstone _after_ the attack by Euron.”

Baelish’s tone was laced with amusement as he watched Qyburn shrink back towards the shadows in anticipation of what was to come. In a swirl of skits, Cersei chucked her wine cup at the man and raged.

“Euron was supposed to have taken them all out! Not _most_ of them. I wanted them _all_ dead! Of course, that worthless shit got himself killed in the process and now we have no fleet left.”

Wiping the wine from his face with the sleeve of his robe, Qyburn sighed and met the queen’s eyes. “We have 20,000 sellswords, war elephants, scorpions, and wildfire, your Grace. I do not foresee us having an issue taking down the remaining enemy.”

“The West alone has 10,000! She still has three dragons and apparently some of her own forces remain! I needed the entirety her army dead.”

Cersei spat the words at Qyburn and turned back to Baelish. “Any word of that fucking cow?” Baelish had spent many a day oft late listening to Cersei rant about the meanderings of Brienne of Tarth and her brother.

Baelish shook his head in denial. “None, your Grace. The boat which delivered Selwyn’s finger was before the attack and we haven’t been able to get another passing ship to assess how many are left and who remains.”

“His finger.” The words rolled off Cersei’s tongue as little more than whisper. Her chin tilted as her brows considered something.

“You say my brother is soon to arrive at Brindlewood? You say he leads the whore’s army in addition to the West?” Turning to look at Baelish, Cersei’s eyes narrowed as she awaited the answer she sought.

“Yes, your Grace. We don’t know how long they’ll remain there, but my sources in the West do confirm that Brindlewood is the temporary destination before marching no King’s Landing.”

Cersei turned back to Qyburn with a small smile on her face. “Qyburn. We’ll need to make another _alteration_. My brother has taken on quite the responsibility. Given his physical state, I’m certain he could use a helping _hand_. Lets send him another piece of Selwyn.”

Baelish looked to the maester and observed the savage smile that spread across his face at the order. “Yes, your Grace. Would you ask that I tend the wound properly to keep him alive or should I leave him unattended?”

With her chin tipped in consideration, Cersei crossed her arms and stroked at her chin. “Keep him alive. In case the cow is alive, I want her to watch as I take her father apart, piece by piece.”

“Will that be all, your Grace?” Qyburn bowed his head slightly as he looked to Cersei for any additional direction.

“No, that will be all. Before sending it off with a messenger to Brindlewood, see me. I’ll have a note to include for my brother.”

Baelish’s eyes followed the maester as he exited the room to carry out his orders. A small smirk tugged at his lips before he looked back to Cersei.

“Your Grace. I have a solution to sway the numbers to our favor in the war to come. I will call back the Vale to attack the West and the dragon queen’s men from the rear of the siege. As the Golden Company blocks the gate and stomps over them with your war elephants, the Vale will press them in from the north.”

Cersei’s lips were pressed in a thin line, but Baelish could see the crinkling of her eyes and slight tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Call the banners. I want the West squeezed from both sides. I want my traitor brother to feel the hands of the Stranger wrapped around his neck.”

With a smile and bow, Baelish moved to exit and make for the rookery. Before he exited, Cersei called out to him. “Lord Baelish, one more thing. I want the forces on strict orders not to kill the cow if she makes an appearance during battle. She deserves a different death. One more slow and painful.”

“As you command, your Grace.” Baelish walked down the hall and felt power coursing through his veins. They would defeat the enemies that opposed them and then the Golden Company would depart; the contract complete.

With no remaining threats, Baelish would have no one to oppose him. He would turn the Vale on King’s Landing and take the crown for himself.

Making his way to the rookery, Baelish chuckled inwardly at how easily this was all coming together. He was managing to take out both Cersei’s allies and Daenerys’ allies concurrently.

He knew the dragon queen would move with her fleet from the skies and swop in to take out any attack. By ensuring Euron’s fleet was stuffed to the gills with wildfire, Baelish knew there was no chance of survival with the dragon brought its fiery breath upon them.

Baelish thought back to his use of the Vale to take out High Garden, putting him in a position to set the Reach against Dorne. The reports he received of the war between the two kingdoms made him overcome with joy.

The battles were bloody and both kingdoms were running low on soldiers. Soon, there would be no one in the south or southeast to call banners against the crown.

There will be no one left to stop me. No one left to oppose me. The final stage of his plan involved using Qyburn to kill the queen while the Vale sacked King’s Landing and any remaining defense system. Baelish could kill Cersei himself, but for Westeros to accept him wanted someone else to commit the act.

He had seen the negative impact to Jaime Lannister’s reputation by taking out a mad king. The kingdoms may appreciate it inwardly, but honor and codes of ethics would see him scorned.

Baelish had been observing Qyburn closely over the past moon or so. He was a man who knew how to survive. A man, who if he was more intelligent, might be a formidable foe. Unlike Baelish however, Qyburn had little drive for power in politics and mind. He sought only power in experimentation.

A strange man, Qyburn enjoyed his experiments and _alterations_. He humored Cersei as he saw the queen as an opportunity for protection and support to further his mutilations and researches. The fissures in their dynamic were rather apparent to Baelish though.

Qyburn was not a schemer. A deviant, yes, but a schemer he was not. He cowered slightly when Cersei flew into a rage. He stammered slightly when he knew the answer was not one Cersei wanted to hear. He didn’t know how to lie and plot properly. He didn’t know how to play the game.

Baelish considered the man. What would make a man like Qyburn turn against a mad queen like Cersei? What does he want?

 _Survival and access to bodies; living and dead_. Baelish could give him both where Cersei could not. When the time came for the Vale to march on King’s Landing, Baelish would make Qyburn an offer.

Take out Cersei and live. Live to continue his experiments and have access to any manner of human experiments. Support Cersei and die. Qyburn would take the offer, of that much Baelish was certain.

As he reached the rookery, Baelish reached for a parchment and quill. He sat down at the wooden table and wrote his missive to Robin.

_Robin,_

_I hope this letter finds you well, my boy. Queen Cersei has given us another order. The final order to securing peace, your safety, and your position in the realm. She has procured the services of the Golden Company as a means to protection the capital from the dragon queen’s remaining forces that marches on King’s Landing._

_She is calling the banners to aid her cause, and she wishes the Vale to attack her enemies from the north of their march. The enemy will be squeezed out and vanquished easily with our army’s aid._

_Queen Cersei has assured me of your elevation to Warden of the East once the war is done. You will be of age to reclaim your birthright and I will be reassigned to allow you to lead your people independently._

_I ask that you alert Ser Royce of the need to send the men south immediately. They are to march towards Brindlewood and attack the enemy._

_Uncle Petyr_


	22. Bonding (Brienne)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne wakes from her injury and speaks with Sansa. Daenerys returns and they prepare for the war to come.

It had been a week since Jaime, Pod, and Daenerys’ surviving forces departed for Brindlewood to meet with the West. Brienne had woken four days ago, much to Sansa’s and Tyrion’s relief.

She had of course been groggy and confused as to where she was and what had happened. Brienne was relieved to find herself safely at Dragonstone with Sansa at her bedside.

 _Where is everyone else?_ Sansa had immediately called for the healer and recounted what happened on the Narrow Sea; the betrayal of Baelish and attack from Euron.

Once Sansa got some water into Brienne and finished explaining it all, she tore into Brienne. “What were you thinking!? You could have been killed!”

 _Gods, she probably hates me. What kind of sworn sword abandons the very person she is sworn to protect_. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t request leave, but I had to try and save my father.”

Brienne’s face was still ashen and weary, but she had her wits about her. She also understood the gravity of the situation.

“This isn’t about requesting leave. I would never try to stop you from saving your own kin, but Brienne… we had a plan. We discussed it as Daenerys’ forces were departing.”

With a heavy sigh, Brienne looked out the window. “I know, but if Cersei killed my father because I didn’t try, I couldn’t live with myself.” Brienne despaired at the knowledge that Cersei still had her father. In her heart, Brienne knew that Cersei was likely torturing him slowly due to her lack of response to the exchange offer.

Sansa huffed and leaned back in her chair. “Well you gave everyone quite the scare. We thought you were dead. You can’t even begin to imagine what I’ve dealt with since you left; particularly with regards to Ser Jaime.”

 _Oh. Yes, Ser Jaime. He probably hates me even more for moving against his love_. “Is he very upset then?” Brienne hated lying to Jaime the night she left, but she knew he would fight her decision; desperate to protect Cersei. Brienne knew there was no way he would sit by idly and watch her go off to face the one person Jaime couldn’t lose.

Sansa raised a brow and a huff of laughter escaped her lips. “That would be an understatement.” Brienne felt her heart sink. _I ruined any hope for friendship with him. He’ll never want to see me again._

“Has he… gone back to her then? Or did he leave to go West?” At Brienne’s question, Sansa’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“Ser Jaime. I hope he understands that I only did it because Cersei has my father. I wouldn’t have tried to move against her otherwise, unless of course your safety required it. Cersei is mutilating my father! I can’t simply ignore it.” Brienne’s tone was laced with irritation. 

_Does he really expect me to sacrifice my own kin so that his sister goes untouched? Would he care if Cersei did the same to me? Probably not, I imagine. No one would, hence the entire point of accepting the exchange._

Brienne’s mind wandered to a most unwelcome scenario. _What if I must face him on the field?_ With a mournful sigh, Brienne looked to the ceiling. _If only Cersei had captured me first instead of my father, neither he nor Jaime would be in this situation_.

Sansa sat forward in her chair, her face a mix of concern and confusion. “I’m sorry, but I think you misunderstand. Ser Jaime wasn’t upset about you moving against Cersei. He was upset at thinking you dead. He left to lead Daenerys’ remaining forces and the West _against_ Cersei.”

Brienne took in Sansa’s words, but they sounded foreign. _He is moving against Cersei? That can’t be._ “What?” Thinking on it further, Brienne couldn’t help but smile. _He’s doing it again. Breaking another vow to do what is best for the realm._

It occurred to Brienne that she assumed unfairly. _He broke the vows of the Kingsguard by killing Aerys in order to save King’s Landing. Now he would break his personal vows to his love, to always protect her, to see her removed from power so she couldn’t hurt more people_.

“I knew he was a good man, though I admit, I didn’t think he could march against Cersei. I feel badly for doubting him. For his sake, I hope Cersei will forgive him eventually.”

Turning her head to smile at Sansa, Brienne was confused to see the young woman’s bewildered stare. “Gods, you really don’t see it.”

“See what, my lady?” Brienne’s brows furrowed and she watched Sansa struggle with something. Sansa opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it and looked away in contemplation. With a shake of her head, Sansa sat back and sighed. “You’ll know soon enough. It isn’t my place to say.”

Sansa quickly changed topics to update Brienne on the plans; Daenerys’ trip across the sea, the timeline for the siege, and the forced fighting between two of their allies.

It was a lot to take in and Brienne temporarily forgot about the strange conversation surrounding Jaime. Brienne spent the next few days moving around and regaining her strength. Brienne was surprised to see the developments in Tyrion’s and Sansa’s blossoming romance, but she was thrilled for them.

From the way Sansa spoke of Tyrion on the way to Dragonstone and the rapport they shared since arriving, Brienne thought it inevitable. The pair was so similar in many ways. Very strategic and kind, yet resolute and calculating.

Now a week since the forces left Dragonstone for Brindlewood, Daenerys returned. The siege was to occur in another week and a half. Brienne was feeling better, but hardly in fighting condition.

The cries of Drogon alerted Brienne of Daenerys’ return. Brienne and Sansa were sitting with Tyrion and Varys on the veranda discussing how best to approach the Vale when the dragon queen arrived.

“Cousin! Thank the Gods you’re alright! You gave us a scare.” Daenerys approached and wrapped her arms around Brienne. Given her size, Brienne mused that the scene likely resembled a young child leaping into the arms of a parent who returned from battle.

“Yes, I’m very sorry about going against your orders. I just…” Before Brienne could finish, Daenerys was waving her off.

“I understand. I admit that I would have done the same. He is your father after all. I shouldn’t have been so rash in my reaction. It cost us dearly. I only meant to get to him faster.” Daenerys smiled sadly and moved to join the rest of them.

Tyrion smiled at Daenerys and bowed. “Your Grace. My brother and your men should be at Brindelwood within a few days. They will share with the West the siege plans and then move south to meet with the Second Sons. Are the men fairing well in their travels across the sea?”

“Yes, they are likely a week from Rosby. Daario was quite excited to come fight in Westeros. Things were too stable for his liking across the sea.” Daenerys rolled her eyes as she updated Tyrion.

“Who is Daario?” Sansa glanced between Tyrion and Daenerys as she raised the question with genuine interest.

“He commands the Second Sons. A very loyal man who I trust implicitly. He is actually quite excited to meet you, cousin.” Daenerys turned to Brienne with a sly smile.

“Me? Why me?”

Daenerys’ smile widened. “He quite enjoys powerful women and when I told him that I had a cousin who was a knight, he became most intrigued.”

 _Oh Gods_. “I’m not a knight.”

Sansa chuckled and spoke on Daenerys’ behalf. “Semantics, Brienne. You’re more a knight than any man I’ve ever met.”

Brienne felt her face flame slightly at the praise, but she was slightly worried at what Daenerys was on about regarding Daario. “Well I hope Daario doesn’t get his hopes up. There is nothing intriguing about me.”

With a slight shrug and hum, Daenerys took a sip of water. “We’ll see.”

Brienne’s face fell slightly as she worried Daenerys might have spoken too well of her. She also worried that Daenerys was trying to play matchmaker again. _Great. Now I can see the look of disgust and disappointment on another’s man face when he lays eyes up on me_.

Glancing to Sansa and Tyrion, she watched as they exchanged worried looks at Daenerys’ words. _Even they realize the disappointment this Daario fellow will feel_.

Brienne dismayed over the situation she was in. She felt it was bad enough when she only had her father to disappoint regarding her failed betrothals. Now it was open knowledge to many that a match was trying to be made for her.

 _Now they can all watch me fail together. Mayhap my father has the right of it. He is cursed to have only a daughter like me, and I’m cursed to be an unlovable beast who will now disappoint a queen and an entire kingdom. Sansa and Tyrion have the right to worry over this. Daenerys needs a proper heir_.

Varys spoke from across the table and cut through Brienne’s self-loathing thoughts. “Your Grace, Lady Sansa and Lord Tyrion were discussing the matter of the Vale. It is likely the crown will try to call on them for this war. They have a plan that you should hear.”

Tyrion smiled widely at Sansa before looking to Daenerys. “Knowing Baelish, they will have the Vale march south and attack from the rear of the battle. He plays the game well, but a military commander he is not. Varys’ sources last saw the Vale’s forces returning home after the battle at High Garden. Sansa’s cousin is lord, but Baelish has been ruling until the child comes of age.”

Sansa was listening to Tyrion but turned to supplement his statement. “I know some things that could help us sway him to us. The Vale will await word from my cousin, Robin, to move south. Baelish is in the capital and will need Robin to give the official command. This would require an urgent visit. We though taking Drogon would get us there the fastest. Would he accept a rider with you?”

Daenerys nodded and inquired what exactly the plan was.

Sansa looked to Tyrion and began recounting her experience with Robin. “He is rather immature for his age, truly. When I met him just the other year, he was still at his mother’s breast. I saw Baelish kill my aunt and he forced me to lie about it. Robin doesn’t know the truth, but if he did, he would abandon support of Baelish. Ser Royce will follow Robin’s command; particularly where it concerns the death of my aunt.”

Daenerys smiled and nodded at the words. “Well then. We have a trip to make.”

After having a quick meal, Brienne followed Sansa and Daenerys up the hill to call for Drogon. While she had no plans to go with them, she was worried about Sansa’s safety on the back of the dragon.

“Do you truly not have any type of harness to use? What if the dragon takes an abrupt turn or dips?”

Daenerys chuckled and looked to Brienne. “I have no idea, truly. I just hold on as best as I can. I don’t know if my ancestors used any type of restraint, but I would hardly know what to do to make one.”

Brienne turned a wary eye to Tyrion. He seemed uneasy about the situation as well. “Please, Sansa. Do be careful.”

The pair exchanged a tender look as they said their goodbyes. “I’ll be back later tonight. I can’t imagine this will take long. My bloody cousin still likely adheres to his bedtime, even without my aunt around to control him.”

Brienne looked up as the sound of dragon cries echoed in the distance. “What is he doing!?” Daenerys backed up quickly as she spoke the words. Landing before them on the ground was Viserion. Drogon swooped in behind his smaller brother, but Viserion stared them down.

Both Brienne and Tyrion moved to stand before Sansa, urging her backwards. Raising an imploring hand towards Viserion, Daenerys spoke in valyrian, trying to calm the beast. 

Viserion moved past her as if searching for something. His head darted towards Brienne and his eyes locked on her. _Seven hells. First wildfire and now dragon fire_.

Brienne raised her hands as if to show the dragon she meant it no harm. She spoke in nervous, rushed tones. “Rytsas, zaldrīzes.”

Daenerys eyes went from alarmed, to curious as she studied the interaction between the two. Brienne felt her heart hammering in her chest. Viserion nudged against her slightly and a deep gurgle echoed in his gullet. _Does he mean to be pet like a dog?_

Brienne touched the dragon’s snout slowly with her hand and found herself surprised at the way the beast relaxed under her touch. Looking to Tyrion and Sansa, she noted the fear on their faces as Tyrion pulled Sansa further back from the scene before them.

Daenerys smiled widely and walked closer. “Cousin, I do believe Viserion has chosen his rider.”

“I’m sorry, he’s what now?” Brienne’s eyes flitted to Daenerys in shock.

Daenerys moved close to them, smiling impossibly wider. “He chooses you, Brienne. It’s in your blood. He is bonding himself to you.” Brienne looked from Viserion to Daenerys. “I don’t understand.”

With a slight chuckle, Daenerys spoke encouragingly. “Go on. Climb up. He means for you to ride.”

Casting a nervous look back to Sansa and Tyrion, Brienne swallowed thickly. “I don’t know how.”

“Neither did I until I climbed up. He’ll respond to you. Just get up there. I’ll be right at your side on Drogon.”

 _She can’t be serious_. Abruptly, Tyrion spoke from behind them. “Actually, this could be a good thing. We’ve tried to withhold Viserion and Rhaegal from battle or threats. They don’t anticipate ground threats as well without a rider it seems. Daenerys has needed to steer Drogon away from several threats in the past. From the skies, I imagine the targets are too small for them to bother with.”

Daenerys began gently nudging Brienne towards Viserion’s side. The dragon lowered its wing to her, and Brienne slowly climbed up. “What do I hold onto?”

“Hold onto his spikes. You won’t hurt him.”

Brienne looked down at the dragon’s back and grabbed the two nearest spikes. Brienne heard her heart beating wildly in her ears and took a final glance towards the group on the ground. Daenerys looked up excitedly, Tyrion in awe, and Sansa in shock.

 _Here goes nothing I suppose_.

Brienne leaned down and spoke commandingly to Viserion. “Sōvēs.” She felt the dragon pull back and begin to take flight. The figures of Daenerys, Tyrion, and Sansa grew distant on the ground below. After the initial shock left her, Brienne looked around in wonder. _Gods. This is unbelievable_.

So lost in her thoughts was she, that Brienne didn’t notice Drogon approaching. Daenerys and Sansa were on the dragon’s back and Sansa’s face mirrored her own. Daenerys smiled widely at Brienne while nodding to the northwest. “Shall we go meet Sansa’s cousin?”


	23. Second Sons (Daenerys)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys and her remaining group from Dragonstone fly to meet the Second Sons at Rosby.

A week had passed in since the meeting with Robin Arryn. Daenerys had been surprised by the slightly understated assessment of the boy by Sansa. _Immature. She spoke truly if not kindly_.

When they arrived, Robin had recently received word from his ‘Uncle Petyr’ and was preparing to have the men of the Vale move against Daenerys and the West. It had taken some convincing on Sansa’s part and far too long of an introduction with the dragons for the boy to agree to join them.

Daenerys’ eyes went wide in shock at the excitement in the young man’s eyes, when Robin showed her how he ‘made men fly’. _Gods, he’s madder than rumors of my father. Air is Robin’s fire._

For his part, Ser Royce look relieved at the boy’s change in orders. The older knight had been visibly shaken to hear of Sansa’s recounting of Lysa’s death. Baelish’s many lies caught up to him as proclaimed truths were dispelled.

Standing outside the castle at Dragonstone, Daenerys went over final instructions with Varys who would be staying behind. “Should I fall in battle, Brienne is my heir.”

Varys bowed his head in understanding and raised a brow to his queen. “You Grace, it seems most dangerous to have both you _and_ your heir flying into battle. Mayhap you or Lady Brienne should remain behind?”

With a snort, Daenerys looked back towards her approaching cousin. “It’s my throne and I will fight for it. I won’t rely on others to do my bidding. That is the type of queen Cersei chooses to be. Not me. And good luck telling my cousin to stay away from a fight.”

Varys sighed and bowed again as Brienne neared them. Brienne had ranted about leaving her armor behind at Winterfell; not believing it would be necessary for such a trip. Instead, she went into battle wearing her breeches, tunic, jerkin, and sword at her hip.

Just behind her, Tyrion and Sansa squabbled as they neared. Daenerys had to bite back a laugh at the sight. Tyrion had insisted on going to aid in any potential negotiations before or after the siege.

He knew there would be no reasoning with Cersei, but Tyrion hoped to minimize loss to any opposing forces in the city. Sansa had not been keen on Tyrion’s decision to head towards the battle rather than stay safe with her and Varys.

“You’re not a soldier, Tyrion! Stay here and await word of the victory.” Sansa spoke imploringly, but in a strong tone that caught Daenerys by surprise. _Should they renew their vows, I know who is ruling their castle_. 

Brienne sighed as she came to stand before Daenerys and Varys. “Arya insists on getting one more dagger. She’ll be here in a moment.” With an eye roll, Daenerys mumbled and turned back to watch Tyrion and Sansa approach.

Arya had arrived just two days prior. Initially, Sansa had been quite excited to see her sister after assuming her dead. It wasn’t until Arya display her face changing technique that Sansa seemed ill at ease in her sister’s presence. Sansa spoke in whispers of it to Daenerys and Tyrion later that night as Brienne and Arya walked the cliffs. “Gods, she has changed so much. She seems… cold. Distant.”

Tyrion gripped Sansa’s hand reassuringly. “I imagine she has been through a lot. When I last saw her, she was just a child. I imagine she grew up a lot along the way. Learned and saw things no one her age should.”

Regardless of the girl’s strange and slightly revolting _talents_ , Daenerys did think having her along would work to their advantage. Arya insisted on joining Jaime’s small group entering the keep via the tunnels. She felt she could use her skill to gain Cersei’s trust and spare unnecessary bloodshed throughout the city.

Sansa and Tyrion came to stop before their small group; tension heavy in the air surrounding them. Daenerys knew Sansa was merely nervous for her former husband. If Daenerys had to guess, the title of ‘former’ would be removed soon enough.

“Please, be careful! All of you. Tyrion isn’t a fighter, you’re a queen, and Brienne has barely recovered from her injuries.” The consideration for Brienne’s injuries had crossed Daenerys’ mind as well.

Daenerys had spoken with Brienne about the concern and they agreed that it made the most sense for Brienne to join her in the attack from the sky.

They would cut lines of fire through the enemy outside the gates. It made Daenerys feel better about bringing two dragons into battle while also ensuring her cousin’s safety.

In the distance, Arya sprinted from the castle. She was an energetic young woman with a wolfish smile. Had Daenerys not been so unnerved by the trick with the faces, she likely would have enjoyed talking to the small but mighty warrior.

“Alright, lets go. I want to cross those names off my list.” Arya buzzed past Brienne and towards Viserion, but the dragon rounded on her and snarled.

“I wouldn’t do that! A dragon’s rider must be present first.” Daenerys spoke commandingly to the young girl, but smiled inwardly at Arya’s lack of fear in approaching the dragon. Most would typically quiver at the prospect of such a meeting.

With final goodbyes, Daenerys climbed atop Drogon and looked to Tyrion. Daenerys smiled as Sansa dropped to a knee to embrace Tyrion. The pair kissed deeply before Tyrion turned to mount Drogon; a slight sheen in his eyes.

 _Gods these Lannister brothers play at such an indifferent, sarcastic attitude but they are so sensitive._ The thought made Daenerys turn an appraising eye to Brienne. She hoped Daario’s expressed interest was true, but she couldn’t help but think the best match for Brienne was Ser Jaime.

They took off into the skies as Sansa and Varys watched on from the ground. Sansa’s tear-stained cheeks again broke through her cold mask. As Sansa’s relationship grew with Tyrion, it seemed to Daenerys that something locked away deep within the young woman was emerging.

The flight to Rosby was quick and they arrived in time to see Daario preparing the men to march towards Hayford Castle. The journey would take just over a day and Daenerys was eager to ride among the men. Drogon and Viserion would fly above and search for food.

“Daario! I trust the rest of the journey was uneventful?” Daenerys smiled warmly at her friend and former lover.

A wide smile stretched across Daario’s face as their eyes locked. “Your Grace. The seas were smooth and the wind favorable. I hope the battle does a better job of keeping me awake.”

 _Gods, how I love and hate his arrogance_. “We received word of the Golden Company at Dragonstone. They have war elephants. I trust that should keep things interesting for you.”

A sly grin tugged at Daario’s lips as he raised a brow. “Please be certain to leave one for me before you torch the rest.”

Daario turned and appraised the group, his eyes lingering slightly on Brienne. “You must be Lady Brienne, our queen’s cousin.”

Brienne’s lips pressed into a thin line as she forced a polite smile that did not reach her eyes. “I am. And you are?”

Daario reached his hand out to grab hers before bringing it to his lips. “Daario Naharis. Commander of the Second Sons. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Daenerys noticed the hint of unease on Brienne’s face as Daario pressed his lips to Brienne’s knuckles. After breaking his lingering glance from Brienne, Daario turned his attention to Arya and Tyrion. “Ah, Lord Tyrion. Good to see you again.”

The unimpressed look on Tyrion’s face betrayed his displeasure at Daario’s introduction with Brienne. He recovered quickly, offering a kind smile and extending his hand to Daario. “Daario. Good to see you again. I trust your skill hasn’t fallen since we departed.”

With a snort and shake of his head, Daario looked to Arya. His brows shot up in amusement. “Who is this child?”

Daenerys chuckled and covered her smile quickly. _Oh Daario, you may not live to see the battle_. “Daario, this is Arya Stark of Winterfell. Lord Tyrion’s goodsister… apologies… _former_ goodsister… for now.” Tyrion’s eyes went wide at the words and their eyes met, but Daenerys’ knowing look kept his mouth shut.

“The last person who called me a child found their neck sliced open from ear to ear.” Arya’s tone was cold and challenging; her eyes locked on Daario. Brienne and Daenerys glanced at one another with secretive smiles on their faces.

Daario shouted to one of his men to bring some horses. Turning back to address the group, he offered water and bread. “Apologies, we don’t have much as we only departed the boat just before your arrival. When we camp for the night, we’ll unpack the supplies and get everyone a proper meal.”

They soon began their travel. Rather than push to get to Hayford that day, they rode at a slower pace and camped halfway to allow for enough time to prepare food for the sizable army of sellswords.

Daenerys rode to Daario’s right as he moved to ride between her and Brienne.

“So, Lady Brienne. Where are you from?”

Tyrion snorted at Brienne’s left side. “I’ve only heard one person get away with calling her lady.”

Brienne’s face flushed slightly at Tyrion’s words before her eyes darted to Daario and she answered his question. “Tarth.”

“I’m not familiar with it.”

With a huff of laughter, Brienne met his eyes more confidently. “You likely sailed past it. It’s an island in the Stormlands.”

“Oh, an island girl. You must know your way around a ship.” Daario’s charming smile flashed in full force. “I’m from Tyrosh myself. Only an islander can appreciate another islander.”

Daario turned to Daenerys and smiled. Speaking to her in valyrian, he commented on Brienne’s remarkable eyes. Brienne’s face burned a deep red at the man’s words and Daenerys let out a loud guffaw.

At Daario’s confused expression, Daenerys leaned forward on her horse to look at Brienne; her face still flushed from the praise. Speaking in valyrian, Daenerys asked Brienne if his words needed repeating.

Without looking to them Brienne fidgeted slightly in her saddle. “Daor, kirimovse.”

Daario’s mouth dropped open as he looked to Brienne and then back at Daenerys. “You could have told me she spoke valyrian. Thank you for that, your Grace.”

Daenerys snorted and looked back to the road before them. _Maybe this will work after all_.

“Well, I meant it my lady. You do have the most stunning eyes.”

With a sideways glance, Daenerys saw Brienne swallow uncomfortably and offer a small smile. “Thank you.”

They soon made camp for the night and Daario had his men bring refreshments to their weary group. Daenerys and Tyrion shared Jaime’s plans for battle with Daario and his lieutenants.

With his brows slightly raised, Daario looked to Tyrion after the meeting concluded. “Ah, your brother is here too. Is he as entertaining as you?” Tyrion chuckled slightly. “I am far more entertaining than Jaime. Jaime fancies himself more handsome than me, however. _Lady_ Brienne, what are your thoughts on the debate between brothers? Who is the most handsome Lannister?”

Brienne’s eyes went wide with panic as she looked between Tyrion and Daario. The men turned towards her; awaiting her reply. Daenerys sighed heavily and glared at Tyrion. _What are you doing!?_

“The most handsome Lannister? There is no debate, Lord Tyrion. I met your Aunt Genna at Joffrey’s wedding. She was quite fetching.” Her tone was teasing and a smile tugged at her lips.

Tyrion guffawed and shook his head. “Well played.” Raising his cup to Brienne, Tyrion took a long sip and turned back to Daario. Daenerys watched as Daario glanced back to Brienne; an amused smile on his face.

“Would you care for a spar?”

“No!” Daenerys leapt from her seat. “She was recently wounded in the attack on the Blackwater only a fortnight ago. She is not yet healed.”

With an eager look, Brienne ignored Daenerys and met Daario’s eyes. “I would love a spar. I haven’t trained in weeks. I’m starting to feel quite restless.”

Daenerys felt worry pool in her gut, and she glanced to Tyrion for support, but it was Arya who spoke. “I saw her defeat the Hound in singlehanded combat. Brienne can push through any pain. I’ve seen it.”

Tyrion shared Daenerys’ unease. Whether his hesitation was for the same reason as Daenerys’ was irrelevant in the moment, she needed her cousin to heal properly.

“We’ll go easy. Just a light spar. With her long arms, I don’t image I would be able to get close enough to land a blow anyway.” Daario raised a slightly suggestive brow to Brienne who seemed oblivious to his attempted charm.

Standing from her seat, Brienne smiled and unsheathed her sword. _Oh Gods. Don’t do this_.

The pair moved to an empty space at the edge of the encampment. Tyrion, Arya, and Daenerys followed slowly and watched as they raised their weapons into position and began to move around one another.

The began the spar tentatively; testing each other’s fighting style. Daenerys could tell Brienne was nowhere near recovered. She had watched Brienne best her top fighters for weeks at Dragonstone. Her movements were less fluid and slower, but she still moved incredibly well given her injury.

Daario seemed impressed as he quickly dodged some strong blows. They parried and swung back and forth for some time. Eventually, their swords came to one another’s throat in a draw. _Brienne would have won if well. She is better_.

With a heaving chest, Daario smiled widely. “You’re quite impressive. I would hate to face you when you’re well.”

Brienne smiled and worked to catch her breath as well. “I’m glad we’re on the same side as well. You were holding back.”

Pride swelled in Daenerys’ chest as she looked to her cousin. “Before her injury, my cousin bested Grey Worm!”

At the words, Daario’s eyes went wide. “Truly!? We’ll need to spar again when you’re healed. Thank you for the dance, my lady.”

Something in his words struck Brienne. Daenerys observed her cousin nearly recoil and her face drop. With a small smile, Brienne nodded and met Daario’s eyes. “I would like that.”


	24. Readying for War (Jaime)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys troops are together and ready to move on Cersei. Jaime is surprised to see Brienne is with the new arrivals.

Jaime stood in the field near Hayford Castle with the lead commanders from the West, Unsullied, Dothraki, and Vale. He had been shocked when just a day prior, the group of knights rode in hard at the rear of Daenerys’ forces.

Ser Royce brought with him a letter from Daenerys herself stating they were to join her ranks. Sansa had encouraged the letter, assuming Jaime would be hesitant at trusting the men from the Vale. It wasn’t until Jaime read the last line that he believed the missive was truly from Daenerys and this wasn’t a trick by Baelish to have Daenerys’ men let their guards down.

_‘I trust you with command of these knights from the Vale as I ask you to again protect King’s Landing from wildfire and madness.’_

Standing in the field now, Jaime questioned Ser Royce on his numbers and figured out the best place to place them during the siege. As he looked up, he saw Grey Worm biting back a smile.

“What?” Jaime’s brows furrowed as he looked at the Unsullied commander in confusion.

Grey Worm exchanged a knowing look with Cohollo who stood to his right. Turning back to Jaime, the smile Grey Worm was trying and failing to suppress tugged at his lips. “You lady here.”

It took Jaime a moment to register the words, but he quickly spun around and looked to the approaching group. There at the front were Daenerys, Brienne, and Tyrion. _Brienne_.

Jaime’s feet slowly carried him forward and he didn’t realize how far he had gotten from his group until he heard Cohollo laugh. “Remember, no touch. Indecent.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Jaime narrowed his eyes as Cohollo who offered a teasing look. _Pain the ass Dothraki_. It was then that Jaime realized just how far he had wandered from the men he was speaking with moments earlier. It was as though an unseen force pulled him towards Brienne. _Gods did they move away or did I move forward?_

Jaime quickly turned back towards the approaching group and watched as the queen and her arriving party dismounted their horses. A wide smile pulled at Jaime’s lips and he jogged to them. Wrapping his arms around Brienne, Jaime buried his face in her neck; breathing in the scent of her and thanking the Gods she was well.

Brienne stiffened slightly in his arms; caught unawares by his open display of affection. “Brienne. Thank the Gods. You’re alright.”

Daenerys cleared her throat dramatically at Brienne’s side. “You can let go of her now, Ser Jaime.”

His senses returning to him, Jaime bowed to the queen and offered a polite smile. Before he could greet Tyrion, an unknown man placed his hand on Brienne’s shoulder. “Who is your friend, my lady?”

 _What? Did this cunt just say, ‘my lady’?_ Jaime narrowed his eyes at the man as irritation flooded his body. Brienne moved to speak, but Tyrion cut her off. “Brother! Good to see you.”

Tyrion positioned himself between Daario and Jaime, offering an eye roll and inclined head back at Daario. “This here is Daario Naharis. Commander of the Second Sons.”

Brienne finally found her words and looked at Daario. “This is Ser Jaime Lannister. I believe he is commander of well… everything at this point.”

She offered a small smirk at Jaime and his heart skipped a beat. As quickly as his heart fluttered with excitement, it fell again. Daario began speaking to Brienne in valyrian. Whatever he said elicited a chuckle from Daenerys and Brienne’s face flushed red.

 _Only I get to make her blush_. Jaime’s patience with Daario was already wearing thin. He didn’t care for the man’s proximity nor familiarity with Brienne. When Jaime looked to Daenerys, her eyes quickly fell. Jaime’s brows furrowed slightly as the look he read on the queen’s face was could almost be described as guilt.

“What? Are you not going to say hello to me, Kingslayer.” Jaime’s attention was captured by a young woman moving forward from just behind Brienne. _That looks like…_

Brienne’s mouth smiled widely, and her eyes filled with happiness. “Oh! Arya returned safely to Winterfell and joins us now.”

At the name, Jaime’s eyes widened in shock. “Gods. The last time I saw you, you were only this high.” Jaime placed his hand just a touch below Arya’s current height. A japing inflection in his voice. 

Arya rolled her eyes and glanced back to Brienne. “Are you certain I can’t kill him?”

With a frustrated sigh, Brienne shook her head. “No, Arya. Stick to your list.”

A wolfish smile tugged at Arya’s lips. The glint in her eye unnerved Jaime. _What had happened to the little spitfire of a girl picking fights with that pudgy boy on the road south so many years ago?_

Regaining decorum over the group, Daenerys urged them forward. “Lets bring the forces together and go over the final plans. I want to move on King’s Landing today.”

As everyone began to move towards Grey Worm, Cohollo, Ser Royce, and Ser Addam, Jaime fell into step beside Brienne. “What are you doing here? You should be resting.”

Brienne rolled her eyes before looking at him. “I will not sit by while my father sits in a cell; your sister having his fingers removed one by one.”

 _Oh shit. I need to tell her_. “Yes, well about that… I don’t know how to tell you this, Brienne.” He grabbed her arm and brought them to a halt as the rest of the group moved forward. Daenerys stopped to encourage them forward, but Jaime held up his finger, asking for a moment.

Much to his irritation, Daario stopped walking and waited for them just a few feet away. With a warning glance at the man, Jaime moved to block him from view and met Brienne’s inquisitive stare.

Jaime felt worry kick course through him in anticipation of her reaction. “Cersei sent a messenger to Brindlewood. We believe your father is still alive, but…”

Jaime pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes; afraid to see her reaction. _Will she blame me? Clearly Cersei harmed her father to incite me. Why else inflict the same handicap on him._ “They sent the rest of his hand.”

The words came out barely above a whisper and Jaime grimaced. Opening his eyes, he saw the horror on Brienne’s face. He rushed to reassure her, putting a comforting hand on her arm. “I’m sorry. We’ll get him back, I swear it.”

Brienne could do little more than nod as she looked down; her hands clenching into fists are her side. When she looked back to Jaime, her eyes were a storm. “I’m very sorry Ser Jaime, but I cannot promise that I won’t kill your sister if I get close enough.”

She stormed off towards Daenerys without looking back. Daario quickly fell into step beside her; a worried look on his face. The sellsword leaned in to speak to her in hushed tones and Jaime felt both jealousy and sorrow battle for dominance in his heart.

Catching up with the group, it was evident from the expressions on everyone’s faces that Brienne shared the information with the other newcomers. A lingering glance at Jaime’s golden hand by Arya made Jaime worry that his earlier fear of shouldering the blame may have been an accurate assumption.

Daenerys brought the group’s attention back to the task at hand. “Arya feels she can be of use in the effort to enter through the tunnels.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed as he looked at the young woman. “I’m not certain that’s safe. She could get hurt.”

Arya snorted. “ _She_ will get hurt. Your sister that is. I will cross another name off my list.”

 _List? Not if I beat you to the kill her myself_. “I’ll be handling Cersei. You stay back with Tyrion. I can’t have you riding into a battle. You’re still just a child.”

“A child that ended an entire house. Ask the Riverlands what happened to House Frey. I assure you, I am hardly a child.”

Jaime’s eyes narrowed questioningly at the girl. Since arriving at Brindlewood, he heard rumors from his men, but had hardly believed some unknown assailant claiming to represent the North had taken out entire house.

“You expect me to believe that you killed old Walder and his entire house?” Jaime’s tone conveyed his disbelief as he looked to the group for support in his assessment of the child.

Producing something from her satchel, Arya turned her back to the group. Jaime looked to Daenerys and Brienne who cringed at what was to come. When Arya turned around, Jaime’s jaw dropped, and he stepped back quickly.

“What the fuck is that!?”

“Gods! It is true!” Addam spoke from Jaime’s side. His face and tone mirroring Jaime’s shock.

When Arya opened her mouth to speak, all Jaime could hear was old Walder. “Winter came for House Frey. Now it comes for the lioness.”

A chill went down Jaime’s spine _. What has happened to Ned Stark’s youngest girl? What does she plan to do to Cersei?_ “I want Cersei dead as much as you, but whatever _that_ is, you’ll not be doing it to her. I’ll give her a clean death.”

Arya turned back to remove the face, placing the flapping mask of skin into her bag. “I don’t need your sister’s face.” The young wolf turned to face Jaime and took a menacing step forward. “I need the face of someone she trusts.”

The threat was apparent, and Brienne and Tyrion moved to intercede. “Arya! We’ve talked about this.” Brienne’s voice brokered no argument and even Daenerys spoke on Jaime’s behalf.

“You will go for Qyburn or Baelish as we spoke of at Dragonstone. Ser Jaime is my army’s commander and an ally.

With a nonchalant shrug, Arya’s face broke into a mischievous smile. “No matter. He wasn’t on my list anyway.”

Jaime studied the girl, now herself again, and had an idea. “If we get you to Qyburn or Baelish, can you do that _thing_ with either of their faces?”

An excited expression took hold of Arya’s features. “Get me within a few feet and I’ll be wearing their face in minutes.”

With a reluctant nod, Jaime locked eyes with the girl. “Good. You’ll take me prisoner wearing their face and bring me to Cersei. _I_ will be the one to deal with her.”

Arya huffed in irritation. “Why should you get to do it!?”

“My grievance with her is greater than yours.” Jaime’s tone was challenging, but Arya did not back down. She took a step closer; her hands locked behind her back.

“Because of her, I lost almost all of my family!”

Jaime’s eyes darted quickly to Brienne and Jaime moved forward, pulling Arya to the side and speaking in hushed tones. “Yes, you lost a lot because of her. I understand your anger. I nearly lost _everything_.”

Arya’s eyes narrowed in consideration. “So Sansa claims.” The young wolf looked over his shoulder at Brienne who was speaking to Tyrion and Daario about the group entering the tunnel. Meeting his eyes again, Arya tilted her chin up. “Fine, but Baelish is mine. He’s on my list.”

“Do I even want to know who is on this list and who you’ve already killed?”

With a wide smile and raised brow, Arya held Jaime’s eyes. “Lets just say that few remain.”

From behind him, Jaime could hear Brienne telling Tyrion and now Daenerys that she would be joining the group in the tunnel. Turning quickly, Jaime moved back towards them. “No! Brienne, you are not going into the keep.”

“It’s my father. She took his hand!” Brienne spat the words through gritted teeth.

“Do you trust me, Brienne?” At Jaime’s words, Brienne’s face softened and the storm in her eyes lessened. “Of course.”

“Then let me take care of this. Please. It will be safer for you with Tyrion. Stay out of this battle.”

With a huff of indignation. “I will do no such thing! I am fighting in this war.”

Daenerys stepped closer and explained that Brienne would be riding on Viserion. _A fucking dragon! They mean to put her on a dragon!?_

“What!? You’re not putting her on a godsdamn dragon!”

Tyrion chuckled and shook his head. “How do you think she got here from Dragonstone. She rides Viserion.”

Jaime’s eyes went wide, but before he could speak, he saw Daario’s smug smile. The sellsword leaned in and said something to Brienne that Jaime couldn’t quite make out.

“Would you get out of her ear!” At Jaime’s sharp words, the group stopped talking and looked to him in surprise. Tyrion’s eyes were imploring Jaime to stop. He knew the look. He had been on the receiving end of it before.

Arya snorted at his side. “Gods. For once Sansa wasn’t being dramatic. This will be interesting.”

Daenerys marched towards Jaime and grabbed his elbow, urging him backwards. She spoke in hushed tones and glared at him. “Are you able to lead my armies or are you too _distracted_? I need to win this war or your little pissing match with Daario will be for nothing.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not distracted. My priority is getting Selwyn back too and stopping Cersei. The crown will be yours before the day runs out.”

Seemingly satisfied with Jaime’s answer, Daenerys nodded and cast a look back to Brienne. Following her eyeline, Jaime observed Brienne speaking with Daario. The sellsword was leaning close and talking, making Brienne smile slightly. Jaime felt his heart drop and jealousy pool in his stomach.

“Brienne will be riding beside me. I want to keep her safe too. You’re not the only person here who cares for her. I won’t let her go in the tunnel, but do not fight her on joining the war. You know it’s a losing battle and if you piss her off too much, she will defy us both… again.”

Jaime sighed, but knew Daenerys had the right of it _. I still don’t want her on a fucking dragon._ “I understand. I will say nothing more on the matter.”

With a relieved sigh, Daenerys nodded and glanced back at the group. “Lets move out. We need to get to Selwyn and Olenna. We need to end Cersei’s reign.”


	25. Taking Faces (Arya)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The siege begins and Arya makes her way into the Keep with Jaime's group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter has a lot of gore and graphic description of torture.

The cool, damp air of the tunnel passage kissed Arya’s skin as she moved quickly through the winding passage. Daenerys’ siege had begun, and distantly, Arya could hear the cries of the dragons and war elephants. Chaos had erupted in the city streets above as citizens ran for shelter.

Their group in the tunnel was small and their objective simple. Take out Cersei. Jaime led the way by torchlight and Arya squinted ahead; ever ready to take on threats around each corner.

At certain points, the tunnels narrowed so much that Arya wondered if it was even structurally sound. Aside from Jaime, their group included Grey Worm, two men from the West, and a sellsword of the Second Sons.

Jaime believed Cersei would have placed all her guards on the battlements or outside the city gates. Her arrogance would work to their advantage as their sole obstruction would be the Mountain. The intention was to have Grey Worm lead the three other soldiers against the undead creature while Arya and Jaime dealt with Cersei.

Entering a longer, wider corridor, Jaime stopped and turned to the group. “Just through this passageway is the level holding the black cells. The level after that is where Qyburn’s lab of sorts is. We should try there first. He was usually skulking about down there when not at Cersei’s side.”

Arya and the men nodded before they began moving forward again. When they eventually reached the next level, Arya took note of the entrance to the black cells where Olenna and Selwyn were likely to be. Tempting as it was to release them, Arya knew they were better off there a while longer.

Moving quickly to the next level, Jaime directed them to Qyburn’s quarters. Entering the room, Arya was taken aback by the scene. Corpses in various forms of decay and dismemberment littered the room. A foul, pungent aroma hit her nose and Arya gagged slightly.

“What the fuck.” One of the men from the west pinched his nose as he ground out the words. Rats scurried around the room and flies picked at the decaying flesh scattered throughout or positioned on examination tables.

Jaime turned to Arya and shook his head. “He’s likely with Cersei if not here.” As they began to move out, footsteps echoed from the hallway outside the room.

They froze in place and Jaime ushered them down the steps, closer to the rotting flesh. Arya was not squeamish, nor did she fear death, but the smell sent bile into her throat. _What the fuck is wrong with this man?_

As their small group pressed their backs to the wall at the base of the stairs and below the entrance, Arya listened to the approaching footsteps. If it was Qyburn, he was not alone.

Straining he ears, Arya listened carefully and heard voices.

“Yes, all that and more. Just follow my lead when the times comes.” _Baelish_. Looking to Jaime, she noticed that he recognized the voice too. His jaw clenched and he met her eyes.

Pulling out their daggers, the group stood ready for their unsuspecting victims. Abruptly, the second set of footsteps retreated. Someone was entering the room, but the person was alone.

The sound of the individual coming down the stairs made Arya’s blood hum in anticipation. _This must be Qyburn_. Rounding the bottom of the stairs, the man’s mouth gaped in shock as he observed the six of them pressed against the wall.

Before he could scream, Grey Worm had the man’s mouth covered and deftly slit his throat. Arya moved to Grey Worm’s side as he lowered the man’s twitching body to the floor. Blood pooled out of his throat as the final chokes of life escaped in a muffled plea against Grey Worm’s hand.

Arya took her dagger to Qyburn’s face and made quick work of it. When her preparations were done, Arya pushed the newly acquired flesh mask to her face and turned to face the men. Only Grey Worm didn’t flinch in disgust and fear.

“That is truly fucked up you know.” Jaime shook his head as he spoke the words and pushed by Arya.

Arya chuckled, but the pitch to her voice was much lower than her own. They quickly moved up the stairs and towards the throne room. Jaime believed Cersei would either be seating on her throne or watching the chaos from her balcony.

Walking at Jaime’s side, Arya produced the chains from her pocket. “Get ready to play the role of prisoner, Kingslayer.”

With a huff of annoyance, Jaime met her eyes. “Do remember not to actually lock the chains.”

“What? Worried your sister could outfight you if your wrists were chained?” Arya felt her thickened skin stretch into a wide smile. Jaime looked less amused and Arya spoke quickly. “If you change your mind about killing her, just say the word. I’ll give her a quick death. I swear it.”

Jaime appraised Arya skeptically, but nodded in understanding. As they approached the throne room doors, Arya placed the chains on Jaime’s wrists; ensuring they were not locked.

Jaime spoke quietly to the group. “Wait here for the signal. If she is inside, I can’t have her see any of you or this won’t work.”

Pushing open the door, Arya as Qyburn and Jaime stepped inside. It was as empty as Arya knew the Twins to now be. With a huff of displeasure, Arya pushed open the doors to let the men in. They moved quickly at Jaime’s back towards Cersei’s room.

As they approached, Arya could hear Baelish inside. Jaime had the men stand to the side of the doors so as to not be seen. With a final look to Jaime, Arya smiled wolfishly and grabbed his forearm, yanking him inside.

“Your Grace, our men captured an enemy you might find of interest.” Qyburn’s voice wafted through the room and Arya smiled inwardly at how smoothly things had gone thus far.

Turning from the balcony, Cersei and Little Finger looked between Qyburn and Jaime. Cersei’s lips curled into a snarl, but Baelish appeared surprised. His eyes darted to Qyburn curiously.

 _Fuck. He is wondering how I got him so quickly when they were just in the damn hallway_.

Muttering for only Jaime’s ears, Arya conveyed her concern. “He knows. Give the signal.”

Jaime’s eyes moved to Baelish and he whistled loudly for the men outside to hear. The four soldiers burst into the room and immediately rounded on the Mountain. The lumbering creature turned on them and began his counterattack, pushing the incoming men back into the hallway. Jaime lunged at Cersei as Arya grabbed Baelish.

“What are you doing!? If you kill us both, you have nothing.” Baelish struggled in Arya’s arms, but she had her plan. A quick death wouldn’t be enough for him. Arya heard what he did to Selwyn. She heard of his trickery with Sansa.

Arya hit Baelish hard with the pommel of her dagger. As he lay dazed on the ground, she pulled a second set of chains from her pocket. One end went to Baelish’s left wrist. The other to the leg of the bed.

“This is for Selwyn.” Arya took her sword and slice off Baelish’s hand. The man screamed out in pain and stared at his severed limb. “This is for all the lies you spoke into Sansa’s ears.” Arya sliced off each of Baelish’s ears and watched with joy as he writhed around on the ground in absolute agony.

Tears streaked down his face as he tried to move away from her. “Please! I beg you! Just end it.”

“This is for everyone you spoke poison against.” Arya shoved the pommel of her dagger into Baelish’s mouth to keep it open. She pinched his tongue and stretched it out as far as she could. Producing another dagger from her hip, she sliced off the tip of Little Finger’s tongue.

From her crouched position, Arya pulled off Qyburn’s face to reveal herself. She watched as Baelish registered what was going on. His tear swollen eyes went wide with shock.

“And this is for me. You weren’t on the original list, but you moved to the top quickly.” Arya sliced across his throat and watched as he bled out.

Arya stood and turned to face Jaime. He was crouched at Cersei’s side with a forlorn expression on his face. The queen’s lips were parted in shock as her purpled face and bloodshot eyes stared up at him. Her body was lifeless and rigid. _Gods. He actually did it_.

Moving to his side, Arya met Jaime’s eyes. He stammered a reply. “I… I killed her. I didn’t mean to do it. She threatened Brienne again. I thought… I thought I could just get her to stop.”

With a sigh, Arya placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We need to ring the bells.” Jaime nodded dumbly and looked back to his twin.

A slight hesitation flitted across his face before he rose to his feet and Arya dragged him away from the body. She caught Jaime’s eyes flicker to Baelish. His eyes went wide in horror. _Well that snapped him out of it_.

“What did you do!?” At Jaime’s words, Arya smiled and looked down at the body.

“I told you. He was on my list. A newer addition of course, but on it nonetheless.”

Jaime met her eyes; his jaw still slack in shock. “Mayhap its best that I killed Cersei after all. I can’t imagine what you might have done to her.”

Arya scoffed. “I promised you that I would make hers quick! I made no promises about him.”

They moved out of the room quickly, but their attention was caught by the sound of fighting. _The Mountain_. Running ahead, Arya saw two dead men at the Mountain’s feet. Grey Worm and one of Jaime’s men were all the remained. 

Jaime grabbed Arya’s arm and locked eyes with her. “Go ring the bells! I’ll help them!”

Arya watched as Jaime unsheathed his sword and ran to assist the other men. Running as hard as she could, Arya made her way out through the throne room. Her feet thudded as loudly as her heart as she sprinted out of the castle and down the steps.

Turning the corner, Arya made her way southeast towards the closest bell tower she knew of. Along the way, she shouted to anyone in earshot. “Ring the bells! Ring the bells! The queen is dead!”

As she approached the first bell tower, she ran inside and grabbed the long rope that connected to the top of the bell. Pulling with all her might, Arya heard the bell ring out across the city. Within moments, others began to ring as well.

A satisfied smile stretched across her face as she took a moment to look out over the city. Daenerys’ forces had breached the gates. The golden company and their war elephants were blanketed in fire as the men of the West, Vale, Second Sons, Dothraki, and Unsullied poured into the city.

 _Fuck. The Mountain_. Arya turned and sprinted back to the castle to aid Jaime, Grey Worm, and the soldier from the West. _That idiot best not have gotten himself killed. Sansa and Tyrion won’t forgive me. Brienne might murder me_.

The run back to the castle seemed to take longer than the run from it. The number of steps into the castle seemed greater. Making her way inside, Arya could here the labored efforts of the men. Bursting into the room, Arya watched as Jaime tackled Grey Worm just in time to avoid decapitation.

The Mountain’s massive sword lodged into a column and he tried to yank it out. At the distraction, Grey Worm jumped to his feet and shoved his spear into the creature’s eyes. Jaime then stood and sliced into the Mountain’s neck with his valyrian steel blade. He got halfway through before the thick column of flesh stopped his progress.

Arya grimaced as the Mountain’s head hung off halfway. The undead man dropped to his needs; his head sloppily falling to one side as blood gushed out.

Grey Worm pulled on his spear to ease the pressure on Jaime’s sword so it could be dislodged. With his sword now free, Jaime sliced through the rest of the Mountain’s neck.

Both men dropped to the ground in exhaustion and Arya walked over quickly with an amused look on her face. “How many men does it take to cut down a mountain?”

Grey Worm smiled at her before turning back to Jaime and clapping his shoulder. “Thank you. You save me.”

Jaime nodded with a sly smile while still trying to catch his breath. “Well I didn’t want to become dragon food if I told your queen that I failed to give aid.”

Arya looked at the dead bodies of their comrades on the floor. “Ser Jaime. Perhaps we should collect Lady Olenna and your goodf… Lord Selwyn.” With a teasing smirk, Arya watched as Jaime rolled his eyes and stood up. Grey Worm stayed behind to await Daenerys as Jaime walked with Arya to release the captives from the black cells.


	26. Coming To (Selwyn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selwyn begins to recover and has several visitors to his sick bed.

Selwyn had been in and out of consciousness for days. He vaguely remembered different events around him, but everything felt distant as thought it was happening to someone else.

He remembered the fevered dreams in the black cell. He remembered the Kingslayer waking him up and calling for help. He remembered being put in a bed. He remembered faces fading in and out. Daenerys. The Kingslayer. Brienne. Mostly Brienne.

When Selwyn finally came to, he found Daenerys at his side. “Thank the Gods! You’re awake. Let me call the maester.”

Within minutes, an aged man with chains came into the room and began poking at his stump. The pain was excruciating and unlike anything he had felt before in his life. The maester hummed as he worked and muttered occasionally.

“The infection is retreating. The salve worked, but it will take some time until this is healed enough to withstand contact.” With a nod of understanding, Selwyn watched as the man exited the room.

Daenerys sat on the edge of the bed and peered down at him. “I was worried about you. You were in and out for days. The maester wasn’t certain if you would pull through the infection.”

Selwyn chuckled, but the deep burn in his chest prompted a strangled cough to push past his lips. “What happened? I barley remember anything after they took my hand.”

With a heavy sigh, Daenerys told him of the attack on the seas, the Second Sons and the Vale, Brienne on Viserion, and the siege. A sly smile tugged at her lips. “Ser Jaime ended it. He killed Cersei.”

 _Gods. Lets not start this now_. “I admit, I’m surprised to hear that. What’s with the smile?”

Daenerys lips tugged wider. “He also saved Grey Worm’s life and killed the Mountain.”

“Gods help me. What of it?”

“He still very much loves your daughter. When he hasn’t been here checking on you, he has been trailing after her and trying to block Daario’s advances.” Daenerys chuckled as she spoke, but Selwyn did not find the humor.

“You’ve forgiven his crimes against your father quite easily.” Selwyn tried to deflect where he knew Daenerys was going with this.

Daenerys jolted abruptly. “I never told you! Gods you left the day after I spoke to him. He killed my father to save the city. My father ordered the pyromancers to destroy King’s Landing by wildfire. Others confirmed the caches of wildfire. Clearly Cersei found it too.”

Selwyn tilted his head to the ceiling and closed his eyes. _Of course. The perfect hero. I am not ready for this conversation_. “Well it is quite amazing, truly. I just… can we please table this topic. I don’t want to think on it.”

Looking to Daenerys, he could tell she was perturbed. “Why then? Why won’t you tell me the truth of it? Brienne loves him too. They would be happy together. I can see it.”

“I promise you that I have my reasons. It is purely in her best interests. I’m simply too tired to get into it now. Just trust me. Who is Daario though? Is the man truly interested in her?”

Daenerys took a deep breath and nodded. “He is the commander of the Second Sons and a good man. I trust him implicitly and I know him quite well.” Selwyn watched as Daenerys cleared her throat and looked away. “ _Quite_ well from before. I told him about Brienne in the hope he might be a suitable match for her. He likes warrior women. He seems to like Targaryen women as well.”

“Has he… he has met her then?” Selwyn didn’t want to give voice to the horrible thought in his head. Memories of Ronnet Connington playing out in his mind. 

Daenerys scoffed and looked back at him. “Gods. You’re where she gets it from! Do you know that when I asked her what she wanted in a match, she only asked that the man _saw_ her first? I couldn’t fathom that my cousin, this strong warrior woman, could have such poor self-esteem. Yes, Daario has _seen_ her.”

Selwyn hung his head in shame. “I just don’t want to see her hurt again. You have no idea what she endured in youth and what one of her betrothed did to her upon seeing her for the first time. I love my daughter with everything in me, but she is not a traditional beauty. Most men do not see it. Sadly, I’ve never known any man to see it. It breaks my heart.”

“Ser Jaime sees her beauty. I will introduce you to Daario if you like, but I want you to think on Ser Jaime. He is a good man. I gave him command of my men and he did everything I asked and more. He loves my cousin and I truly believe that she loves him.”

With a resigned shrug, Selwyn exhaled and changed the subject. “How is Lady Olenna?”

At the question, Daenerys grimaced. “She is… unwell, both in body and mind. We’re trying to do everything we can for her, but what they did to her…”

A shiver ran through the young queen and Selwyn grabbed her arm with his hand. His _only_ hand. “When I’m well, I’ll visit with her.”

Daenerys nodded and stood from the bed. “I’ll let Brienne know you’re awake. She has been in and out of the room quite a lot. If she wasn’t so busy trying to escape from Daario’s and Jaime’s constant arguing and trying to on up each other, I’m certain she would have been here now.”

Selwyn chuckled at the thought. _My daughter has two men interested._ _Gods. I never thought I would see the day_. Daenerys left the room after offering a final smile in his direction.

When the door closed, Selwyn looked out the window. _I wish there was a way to make them all understand my fear. Understand the curse. I couldn’t live with myself if harm befell Brienne or her future babes._

Brienne came by not long after to visit. She entered the room and offered a small smile as their eyes met. “Hello father. I’m so sorry about all this. That they got to you first.”

“Oh, hush child. Better me than you! So… I hear you’re a dragon rider now.” Selwyn chuckled as Brienne’s face scrunched.

“Yes, it seems Daenerys has shared quite a lot.”

Selwyn’s laughter died and her looked to her with all mirth gone from his eyes. “Yes. She also shared that you nearly got yourself killed trying to save me. Promise me that you will never do something so foolish again. Your life is far too important to me.”

“I can make no such promise.” _Seven hells. Stubborn child_.

“I also hear there is a man trying to get your attention. Daario? Tell me of him.”

At Selwyn’s words, Brienne’s face dropped. _Does she not like the man?_

“He is a friend of Daenerys. I’m certain he’s merely trying to be kind to her kin.” Selwyn watched as Brienne pulled up a chair to his bedside.

“Oh, come now. Daenerys thinks he is taken with you.”

“Now you know that can’t be true. You said it yourself. I’m just a cursed, ugly, beast of a woman.” Brienne’s eyes met his challengingly.

“I said no such thing!”

Brienne scoffed as her brows furrowed. “Did they bash you over the head with a brick while you were in the cells? You did say such a thing at Dragonstone.”

“You twist my words, girl. That is not what I meant. I meant that I fear you were cursed to not be loved.”

“Because I’m ugly. You said…”

“I know what I said! I’m sorry for it, alright. Well… I meant it about my fears regarding the curse. Not the implication of my words regarding… you.”

With the shake of her head, Brienne looked down at her hands. “If’s fine. It doesn’t matter. Truly.”

Selwyn watched as she sat quietly for a moment before he spoke. “Do you like the man? Would he make you happy?”

Brienne shrugged and huffed. “He seems nice which is more than I would expect or hope for anyway. He’s… alright.”

Selwyn’s eyes narrowed at his daughter while she continued to look everywhere but at him. “And what of Ser Jaime?”

At the mention of Jaime, Brienne’s face flushed a deep red. _Gods. She still pines for the man_.

“What of him?”

Tilting his head with a knowing brow raised in her direction, Selwyn considered his most delicate approach. “You know you can’t… it can’t be him.”

“Don’t you think I’m aware of that.” Brienne’s voice was irritated and clipped. Folding her arms across her chest, her posture became as closed off as her attitude.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, Brienne. I only mean to protect you. I don’t care how much he pesters you and asks, it must be someone else. Mayhap this Daario could be good for you.”

“Pestering me? Asking what? What are you on about? Someone like him would want nothing to do with someone like me. Are we about done with this now? I would rather talk about something _not_ me.”

At Brienne’s words, it hit Selwyn. _He hasn’t told her. She truly doesn’t see it_. _Have my careless words so broken her self-worth that she can’t recognize when a man loves her?_

Part of Selwyn wanted to point out all he had observed, and all others had observed where it concerned Jaime Lannister. He wanted to make her feel better about herself and to see her smile.

The other part of Selwyn, the selfish part, told him to bite his tongue. Told him that to keep her safe, he had to let her think it all true. That the boy didn’t want her.

Selwyn was at war with himself. Looking at her crestfallen face, he looked away; unable to say the words while meeting her eyes.

“Well, yes. There’s that. Would you at least be happy with Daario?” The words felt bitter on his tongue. He was asking her to sacrifice her happiness to appease his fears for her future.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Selwyn knew by her tone that it was the end of the conversation. He didn’t want her to leave upset, so he changed topics.

“I am very proud of you, you know. My daughter… a dragon rider.” Selwyn chuckled at the thought, but Brienne was unmoved.

“I prefer looking the enemy in the eye. It seemed unfair actually; torching targets from the sky. I particularly hated seeing the elephants die. It was horrible.” Brienne grimaced at the memory and Selwyn bit back a laugh.

 _Always so sensitive_. Ever since Brienne was a little girl, she hated seeing people or animals hurt. It was the true irony of her ruthless fighting style and size. She had little more on the inside than a maiden’s heart. _Yet another cruelty of the Gods_.

“Well even without the dragon riding bit, I’m proud of all you’ve accomplished since you left Tarth. I love you very much. You know that, don’t you?” Selwyn’s eyes bored into her; begging her to meet his eyes and understand the truth of the words.

“Yes, father. I know you do.” Selwyn watched as Brienne began to fiddle with the hem of her jerkin. He perked up at the sight. It always meant she had something to ask or say that wasn’t easy for her. He waited patiently as she found her voice. 

“Do you think… never mind. It’s not important.” Brienne stood to leave and smiled warmly at her father. “I’m very happy that you’re alright.”

Selwyn’s heart sank as he watched her walls go up again. “What is it, Brienne? Tell me, please.”

She was gone. Her eyes stone again. “Nothing. I’m just glad that you’re well now. I’ll come see you tomorrow?” Selwyn nodded as she bid him goodnight. He felt a mix of guilt and sorrow as the door closed.

The next day, Selwyn had a new visitor. Jaime Lannister.

 _Seven hells. Not this_. Jaime smiled anxiously and looked to Selwyn’s stump. “I’m sorry about that. I understand your pain.” He held up his false hand with a nervous smile plastered to his face.

Selwyn huffed and watched as the man pulled up the same chair that Brienne occupied the day prior.

“When you feel up to it, I’m happy to help you train or just offer little tricks to get through life without looking like a complete dolt. It’s very frustrating at the beginning, but it eventually gets better.”

Studying the man wearily, Selwyn feared what was coming. “What is it? What do you want?”

Selwyn’s words caught Jaime off-guard. The younger man’s head snapped up to meet Selwyn’s stare, but Jaime’s eyes quickly darted away, and he cleared his throat.

“Right. Sorry. I just wanted to speak with you about Brienne. I… I’ve been in love with her for some time. I would do anything for her, and I want to ask her to marry me. I was hoping that you would…”

“No.” Averting his eyes, Selwyn found he couldn’t look at Jaime. The young man’s face was too wounded by the curt reply.

“I know that you’re not fond of me, but can you at least tell me why? Is it Aerys? I know it wasn’t my finest hour, but…”

“It’s not Aerys. I don’t have a problem with you. You’re not a bad person. You’ve done good things and I appreciate what you done for my daughter and Daenerys, but there are things that I can’t look past.”

“What is it? What can I do to prove to you that I’ll always put her first? I’ll do anything. Is it Tarth? Do you want her to live there? I don’t even like Casterly Rock…”

“It’s your sister. You lay with her.”

Looking back at Jaime, Selwyn watched as his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.

“I… I don’t know how to fix that. I can’t change the past.”

“That’s the point. You say you would do anything for Brienne?” Selwyn stared at the younger man.

“Yes.”

“Then let her go.”

Selwyn watched as the life drained out of Jaime. Tears pooled in his eyes and the young man nodded wordlessly. He stood from the seat and left the room.


	27. A Queen's Decision (Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa arrives in the capital and is shocked by some information she receives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double posting this and the next chapter (Brienne POV). I couldn't leave today on this chapter given it has been a year since GOT ended with TBTWP and Braime riding off into the sunset. That's what happened... right?

Sansa arrived in the capital just over a week after word came of Daenerys’ victory. Traveling with Varys has been an experience in itself and she was eager to see Tyrion.

Following Pod down a corridor of the Keep, long repressed memories of Joffrey’s torture and Cersei’s cruelty flooded back to her. _They’re dead now. I’m safe_.

Reminding herself to breathe, Sansa kept her head held high and clutched her hands together tightly as she walked. Her knuckles turned white under the pressure with which she squeezed her hands together.

They arrived at Tyrion’s door and Pod offered a reassuring smile. He understood what the city represented to her and so many others who suffered under the last sovereigns. Even Pod had to flee with Brienne to escape Cersei’s thirst for vengeance.

“Good to have you back, my lady.” Pod gave a polite smile as he walked back down the hallway from which they came. Sansa turned back to the door and knocked lightly.

Within moments, the door open to reveal Tyrion. Sansa smiled warmly, but then her eyes landed on Jaime. He was sitting in a chair with his arms on his knees as he leaned forward looking lost.

Sansa looked back at Tyrion and dropped to a knee to embrace him. Whispering into his ear, she inquired if she should come back another time, but before he could answer Jaime was quickly moving past them and out of the room.

Tyrion muttered to himself and grabbed Sansa’s hand while leaning into the hallway. “Jaime! Come back. We’ll get through this.”

 _Oh Gods. Is he upset about Cersei?_ Sansa looked around the doorframe, but Jaime was already moving down another hallway.

“What happened? Is it about Cersei?”

Tyrion exhaled loudly and rubbed his face. “You could say that.”

Sansa’s face fell at the words. She worried the siege of King’s Landing and death of Cersei might set Jaime back. His love for his sister was not something she could comprehend, but she knew that it drove him.

“He’ll get over her. It will just take time.” Sansa tried to be reassuring, but she could hear the uncertainty in her own voice.

Tyrion snorted and sat down in a huff. He stroked his beard and looked out the window. “No, he won’t. This will be what breaks him.”

Sansa sat opposite Tyrion in the chair that Jaime had occupied. “I had though Brienne would be enough to get him through this.”

At her words, Tyrion looked to her in confusion. “What? This _is_ about Brienne.”

“You said this was about Cersei.” Sansa’s brows furrowed in confusion as she searched Tyrion’s face.

Shaking his head rapidly, Tyrion sucked in a breath. “No, let me back up. Jaime asked Selwyn for his permission to court Brienne. He asked permission to marry her.”

Sansa’s eyes widened and she leaned forward; a smile emerging on her face. “Well that’s a good thing! I thought he was upset about Cersei’s death!”

Tyrion chuckled and shook his head. “He is the one who killed her, Sansa. I don’t think he wanted to, but he said she threatened Brienne and he lost it.”

Taking in the information, Sansa felt her heart fill at the thought. _He did it. He truly broke from Cersei and he chose Brienne._

As soon as that hope blossomed in her chest, Tyrion snuffed it out.

“Selwyn said ‘no’. He told my brother to let her go if he truly cared for her. He finally gave his reason. It’s Cersei. He can’t accept what Jaime did with her.”

 _What?_ At Dragonstone, Sansa and Tyrion had discussed what they thought Selwyn’s reason could possibly be for refusing Jaime as an option for Brienne. They both assumed it had to be the killing of Aerys.

“So it’s not Aerys? Jaime told him the truth of it?”

Tyrion shrugged. “I don’t know. Selwyn said his reason was Cersei and he couldn’t look past it.”

Sansa stood from her seat in a rage. “I can’t say that I understand you brother’s relationship with Cersei, but is it Selwyn’s belief that Jaime is to live a loveless life because he lay with his sister!? He hasn’t even been with another woman! It’s not as though he had been betrothed or wed to another and slept with Cersei anyway.”

Tyrion leaned back and crossed his arms. Sansa could tell that he was equally angered and vexed, but he had no words. “Tyrion… they love each other. I’m certain Brienne feels the same. You said Daenerys confirmed as much! Where is she? Where is the queen?”

“In her room, but Sansa…”

Sansa didn’t wait. She stormed out and made her way towards the area she believed the queen’s quarters to be. Passing an Unsullied along the way, the man confirmed Daenerys’ location.

Arriving at the guarded door, Sansa saw Grey Worm standing guard outside with another Unsullied. “Is she in there?”

Grey Worm nodded and Sansa knocked loudly. Muttering to herself, she huffed and looked around the hallway. “What wrong?”

Sansa looked back to Grey Worm and sighed. “I might strangle Lord Tarth if Daenerys doesn’t intervene.”

The door swung open to reveal Daenerys and a man Sansa didn’t recognize. “Your Grace. I need to speak with you urgently.”

With a hesitant look to the man who was unfamiliar to Sansa, Daenerys smiled and opened the door; bidding her enter. “Lady Sansa, this is Daario Naharis. He commands the Second Sons.”

Sansa smiled politely at the man, but the rage she felt for Selwyn blocked the gesture from reaching her eyes. Daario bowed his head and smiled brightly at Sansa. Turning back to Daenerys, she spoke firmly.

“I’m quite concerned with a matter concerning Westeros. You want to break the wheel and allow women to inherit. To allow them true leadership, yet a woman can’t even select her own husband. Jaime Lannister, the man who commanded your armies and brought you the crown, has been told by Selwyn that he may not ask for the hand of the woman he loves. The woman who loves him.”

Daenerys eyes went wide and she looked quickly to Daario. Sansa heard the man guffaw from behind her, but he quickly covered his mouth and bowed apologetically.

“I’m sorry, but is something about that amusing to you? I believe it is disgusting.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Daenerys sat down and gestured for Sansa to join her. “Lady Sansa, Daario has agreed to wed Lady Brienne.”

“What!?” Sansa turned to look at the man in question. He smiled widely and shrugged before speaking to Sansa. “I suppose Ser Jaime isn’t the only one interested. Is that disgusting is well?”

Sansa narrowed her eyes at the man and scoffed. “You don’t even know her!”

“I intend to get to know her. Queen Daenerys and I know each other quite well and she can attest to my quality of person.”

Looking back to Daenerys briefly, Sansa returned her gaze to Daario. “This isn’t about your quality of person. This is about what Brienne wants. They love each other. Do you fancy yourself in love with my friend?”

“No, to claim otherwise would be disingenuous. I don’t know her as you said. I think I can make her happy though. She likes to fight, and I enjoy a woman who fights.”

Sansa laughed bitterly. “You truly don’t know her at all then.” Sansa turned back to Daenerys and shook her head. “Brienne is an excellent fighter, but she craves love. Not a comrade. Ser Jaime just so happens to be someone who sees her as the maid and the warrior. This man doesn’t love her nor know her by his own acknowledgement. You can’t allow this.”

“Brienne has accepted the betrothal.” Daenerys looked away as she spoke the words. Something told Sansa that Brienne had not accepted the betrothal.

Turning to Daario, she raised a brow. “Did you ask for her hand?”

“No, I asked for her father’s blessing and he agreed to the match.”

Sansa had to bite back the scream threatening to escape. “That is NOT asking Brienne.”

Daenerys sighed and looked to Sansa. “Selwyn asked Brienne if she would object to the match, which by law is his right to make. She didn’t outright say ‘no’.”

Sasnsa could no longer contain the contempt filled laugh escaping her lips. “How romantic. So, she is to do her duty to the realm without knowing that the man she loves, loves her in return. She is to marry someone she doesn’t know nor love because she wouldn’t rebel against her own father? A man she has sacrificed her own happiness and safety for time and time again. Is this what Westeros is to be, your Grace?”

The look in Daenerys’ eyes was murderous, but she contained her rage. “I need Brienne to make a match to ensure an heir for Westeros. I want to change these archaic laws, but I have barely had a crown on my head this week and it is a delicate topic with the nobility… clearly. I also want to honor the one thing Selwyn has asked of me. I would not be alive were it not for him. His own daughter is willing to honor his wishes. What more do you expect me to do? I will announce the betrothal at the victory feast tonight.”

Sansa turned to Daario. “Is this why you want Brienne? Because she is to be named heir? Or is it because your queen asked you to marry her kin?”

Daario took a deep breath and looked to Daenerys. “I admit that my initial interest in Brienne was purely based on Daenerys’ encouragement, but then I’ve spent time with her since. As I said, I like a woman who fights.”

“And I like men who are kind. That doesn’t mean I will marry every one of them! What else do you like about her? You said you’ve spent time with her. Tell me one thing about her.”

“She grew up on an island. So, did I.”

“Good. I grew up in the North. We have a lot of kind men there too. This isn’t narrowing the pool much, is it?”

Sansa watched as Daario’s eyes flickered to Daenerys. He looked uncertain and Sansa narrowed her eyes in irritation.

“Shall I invite Ser Jaime in? If both of you have the next moon available, I’m certain he would happily list all the things he loves and knows about Brienne.”

Daenerys stood from her chair and walked to do the door. Opening it, she refused to meet Sansa’s eyes, but spoke commandingly. “I thank you for the input Lady Sansa, but this won’t get us anywhere.”

Sansa looked closely at the queen’s eyes. They looked sorrowful and confused. Standing from her seat, Sansa cast a final glare at Daario before moving to the door.

Moving to exist, Sansa paused near Daenerys. She looked into the queen’s eyes and spoke quietly. “If you truly love your cousin as you claim, let her pick. They _love_ each other and I know you see it too. Selwyn is being more of a cunt than Cersei ever was.”

Sansa turned on heel and left the room. With a nod towards Grey Worm, she marched back to Tyrion’s room. _If Selwyn gets his way, I will ensure losing that his hand feel like a gentle kiss_.

Later that night with the various commanders, advisors, and lords of Westeros in attendance, Daenerys’ feast was under way. Only Jon was missing given travel time from the North, but he would be at the capital to swear fealty within a fortnight

Tyrion and Sansa sat at the table with Jaime, Arya, Ser Addam, and a few men from the West. Addam was chatting away in Jaime’s ear from across the table, but Jaime looked distant. Leaning into Tyrion, Sansa whispered. “Does he know what is coming?”

Shaking his head in denial, Sansa felt her stomach drop. Sansa’s lips curled in distaste as she looked back to Daenerys’ table. The queen, Grey Worm, Missandei, Daario, Selwyn, and Brienne sat together. Everyone except Brienne appeared to be having a good time. _I wonder if she knows_.

“We need to warn him. He will make a scene.” Sansa muttered to Tyrion, but her words must have been loud enough to catch Arya’s ear.

“What’s going on?” Arya leaned close to Tyrion; her eyes alight with mischief.

Tyrion and Sansa quickly told her what was to happen, and Arya’s eyes darkened. “Want me to slit Selwyn’s throat?”

With a reprimanding look from them both, Arya backed off and put her hands in mock surrender. “Fine, but Sansa is correct. This is going to get ugly.”

Sansa looked to the head table and caught Daenerys glancing towards Jaime with worry in her eyes. _Gods. She’s going to do it. She will hurt them both because Selwyn said so_.

Not long after the first course, Daenerys rose to give a toast. She thanked the kingdoms and its lords and ladies for their support. She thanked the men that fought for her. She thanked the commanders and Ser Jaime for leading them.

Sansa scoffed at the last part. _He’s good enough to lead her men and win her crown, but not good enough to marry her newfound cousin_.

Then Daenerys looked tentatively to Selwyn who nodded in encouragement. “I also want to share that I will be naming my cousin, Lady Brienne Tarth as my heir should I be unable to produce an heir of my own. I am pleased to announce that she is to wed the commander of the Second Sons, Daario Naharis. I wish them both long and happy lives.”

Sansa felt sick. She looked to Brienne whose eyes went wide in shock. Looking between Daenerys and Selwyn, Brienne opened her mouth to speak, but shut it quickly.

Glancing at Jaime, Sansa noted that he sat stiff in his chair. His jaw slack and his eyes wide in shock. Sansa could see his breakdown happening in slow motion. His breathing intensified and his jaw clenched. Slowly his eyes filled with tears as he abruptly stood from his chair and left the room as everyone around them cheered and toasted.

“Tyrion, go to him!” Sansa nudged Tyrion, but he sat there dumbfounded. Looking around the table, she could tell by the reaction of Ser Addam that he knew of his friend’s feelings for Brienne as well. _Fucking hells! What is wrong with these men!_

“Are none of you going to talk to him!?”

Tyrion shook his head. “We’ve dealt with this exact thing before. It is best to give him a moment. Trust me.”

The truth of Tyrion’s words hit Sansa. He has endured this exact feeling before with Cersei’s betrothal and wedding to Robert. Twice in a lifetime seems a fate too cruel for even a despicable man let alone a good one.

The rest of feast passed in a blur. It wasn’t until Sansa looked back to the main table that she saw Brienne was missing. Daario was chatting happily with Selwyn while Daenerys laughed with Grey Worm and Missandei. _They don’t even notice she is gone. That she is fucking miserable_.

“I’ve had enough of this shit.” Sansa stood from her seat and glared at the head table. Moving down the hallway that Jaime exited through, she wandered around in frustration looking for either Jaime or Brienne. When all possible location of either inside the castle were exhausted, Sansa moved outside towards the gardens and training yard.

Exiting onto the veranda, Sansa moved along the shadowed walkway. That is when she saw them arguing in the training yards.


	28. Truths Revealed (Brienne)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne thinks about Daenerys' announcement and goes to blow off some steam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double posting this and the previous chapter (Sansa POV). I couldn't leave today on the last chapter given it has been a year since GOT ended with TBTWP and Braime riding off into the sunset. That's what happened... right?

Brienne left the feast disheartened. _It would have been nice to have been warned. Perhaps someone could have consulted me on the matter_. _This is a Ser Wagstaff all over again_. 

Brienne’s mind wandered back to her third betrothal. Her father despaired after the first two failed matches and the catastrophe of a ball he threw on Tarth. Out of pure desperation to see his only living heir married off, Selwyn betrothed Brienne to a man older than himself, age five and sixty.

The man was no one of consequence; merely a friend of Selwyn. He knew of Brienne’s proclivities and demanded she trade in breeches for a dress. A sword for a needle. Wagstaff threatened that he would beat Brienne if she stepped out of line.

At his offensive tone and request, Brienne challenged him to a fight. She felt that any man demanding such things of her should at least be able to take her in combat. Brienne ensured that when Ser Wagstaff left Tarth, it was not without the aid of a healer. 

When she left the table from the feast, no one noticed. Her presence, like her happiness, seemed an afterthought. She glanced back over her shoulder at the head table.

Her father was beside himself with joy as he and Daario spoke animatedly. Selwyn clapped the man on the shoulder and carried on about some nonsense.

Daenerys had her heir named and hoped to see at least another generation of Targaryen rule secured in the process. _Would Daario even lay with someone like me? Surely, he has only been kind because of Daenerys_.

Brienne felt frustrated and helpless. In battle, she could see her enemy and defend herself. In matters such as this, she was weaponless and her enemy used honey words to tell her how special this all was; not a mere duty to perform or an unwanted advance.

Daario was kind and handsome. _Very handsome. Not Jaime handsome, but more than adequate_. Brienne knew it was more than she could ever ask for or hope for. She would still be the beast beside a beauty when entering the Sept.

Daario also seemed sincere during the handful of conversations they had. Unlike the men in Renly’s camp who were only kind to Brienne as a means to win the bet to take her maidenhead, Daario seemed genuine. He lacked ulterior motives. One thing that Brienne was certain about, was that Daario enjoyed sparring with her.

They had a friendly spar a handful of times in the week since Daenerys took her crown. Nothing with too much effort put forth as Brienne was still healing from her injuries on the Narrow Sea.

If Brienne was being honest with herself, she felt that Daario was someone she could grow to care for. She was luckier than most where it concerned marriage of nobility. Many women were forced into cruel marriages for little more than political gain, much like the one Sansa had with Ramsay.

Thinking of her newly announced betrothal to Daario, there was no fault to find except one. They didn’t love each other. Hells they hardly knew each other. Brienne tried to reassure herself by thinking on marriages such as those between Lady Catelyn to Ned Stark. She knew their relationship started out as a political match, but it grew into love.

_Could I grow to love Daario? Surely, he will never love me, but mayhap I could grow to love him? Would he even want that? Would I want another unrequited love? Does he prefer to lay with others when we’re wed?_

Brienne needed to swing her sword at something or someone. It was the only time she felt in control. Moving purposefully to her room, she grabbed Oathkeeper and headed towards the training yard _._

_Will Daario let me keep serving Lady Sansa? What if he wants to stay in King’s Landing with Daenerys? Will I be stuck in this city away from everyone who means so much to me? Will I get to still see Ser Jaime again?_

At the thought of Jaime, Brienne’s heart dropped. He had been off with her since Daenerys won her crown. Over the past day, he seemed to be avoiding her. _Mayhap I was wrong about our friendship. Mayhap I mean nothing to him_.

Brienne scolded herself inwardly. _I’m being selfish. He lost the love of his life and it’s my fault. If I hadn’t joined this war, his hand wouldn’t have been forced._

Pushing through the castle door, Brienne made her way to the training yards. As she approached, she heard a strange sound coming from the area. Moving around the corner, she saw Jaime hacking away at the training dummy; tearing it to shreds with his valyrian steel sword.

“Ser Jaime?”

As she called out, Jaime’s wild swings came to a halt. He was panting from exertion and he wore only his tunic and breeches; the crimson, leather jerkin he had on during the feast was discarded at the side of the yard. With barely a glance over his shoulder, he called back to her. His voice was cold and clipped.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, I was just surprised to find anyone out here. I thought you were at the feast?” Brienne took a few tentative steps into the yard; Oathkeeper still clutched in her hand.

“Isn’t it more important for you to be there with your _betrothed_?” Jaime’s tone was biting, and it reminded Brienne of the way he spoke to her when they first met. The way Jaime said the word ‘betrothed’ was laced with a mocking disdain.

“Do not mock me!”

Jaime turned to face her; his face aflame with anger. It was then that Brienne saw his red, swollen eyes.

He sneered as he spat his words. “Me!? Mock you!? You don’t need me for that. You do that well enough on your own.”

Brienne reeled back as if slapped by the words. “I’m sorry you lost Cersei, but you don’t need to take it out on me!”

“Cersei!? I killed Cersei. I killed a woman I swore to protect with my very life. Do you know what I did that!?”

“Because you’re a good man. An honorable man.”

Jaime let out a bitter laugh at the words and turned back to the practice dummy. “Go back to your precious Daario! Leave me be.”

“Oh, my apologies. I didn’t realize this was _your_ training yard, although I can see you left very little of the dummy for anyone else.”

Brienne unsheathed her sword and began to move towards the edge of the training yard, but before she could get there, Jaime’s sword was at her neck. 

His eyes were like wildfire and his chest heaved with anger. “Go away.”

Squeezing her fist around the hilt of Oathkeeper, Brienne struck hard against his sword; knocking his hand out of the way. “Leave me be!”

“I’m trying to!” Jaime’s voice was mixed with anger and desperation as he sliced back towards her. They began sparring back and forth. Brienne was shocked by the force with which he was striking at her. This was no friendly spar.

“Do you really hate me so much for what happened!?” Brienne spat the words through clenched teeth as she blocked another blow. “What did you think I would do!? Cersei captured my father! Should I have let him die or be slowly tortured because you didn’t want Cersei dead!?”

“I already told you. I killed Cersei! Do you know why!?” Jaime struck hard and Brienne barely blocked in time. The force of his hit vibrated through her arms as their swords came together. Brienne’s injured side screamed in agony at the tension as her body took the blows. _Seven hells. He’ll take my arm off!_

“And I already told you! Because you’re a good man!” Brienne countered with three successive strikes of her own. Her body hummed with the thrill of battle. Her body responded gracefully from the familiarity of her opponent. It was only her injury that protested and held her back.

“Wrong!” Jaime swung harder and Brienne nearly dropped Oathkeeper.

With an exasperated huff, Brienne righted herself and swung back as hard as she could given the searing pain in her side. “Because you’re honorable!”

“Still wrong!” Jaime swung again and Brienne stumbled backwards as she tried to clear her mind.

They traded more strikes and parries before Brienne’s next words stopped Jaime’s assault on her person. “Because it was more merciful than the deaths others would give her.” 

Jaime’s brows furrowed in disbelief and he raised his left arm to swing again. Brienne brought up her sword, but the force of their blades coming together was too much and she dropped Oathkeeper. Her eyes went wide in shock as his sword was again moved to her neck. _Where the fuck did that come from?_

Jaime’s chest heaved as he locked eyes with her. Brienne was shocked to see the pain in his face. “Definitely wrong! I killed her because she threatened you. She threatened you because she knows. She has always _known_!”

“Know what?” Brienne’s brows knitted together in confusion.

“That I love you.”

Before Brienne could fully digest the words, Jaime dropped his sword and surged forward. He grabbed her face in his hands, one flesh and one gold, as he pulled her into a kiss.

At the unexpectedness of it all, Brienne stiffened under his touch. The words he said rolled around in her head as he pulled her closer; his right arm wrapping around her waist as his left hand cupped her face and his fingers moved through her hair.

 _He loves me?_ It seemed to her a ridiculous thought when his lips were pressed so firmly against hers.

Slowly, Brienne let her body relax against him as the initial shock wore off. She softened her lips which encouraged him to press further. It felt like Brienne’s entire body was on fire. She never wanted the kiss to end.

When their lips broke apart, Jaime rested his forehead against hers. They both panted for breath, as Brienne’s eyes met Jaime’s. His eyes were open and vulnerable. Brienne saw the truth in his declaration, but there was something else there. Hurt.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. You’re betrothed and I…”

“I love you too.” Brienne blurted it out before thinking.

Jaime’s eyes widened in shock. He pulled back his head and searched her eyes; a slight desperation flashed across his face as if he heard her wrong.

“You… you love me? Not Daario?” 

Brienne snorted. “Daario? I don’t even know him.”

“But, why did you agree to marry him?”

Brienne huffed in annoyance and looked away. “I wasn’t even aware it was an open topic. My father must have made the match.”

Jaime’s face went from confusion to irritation. “They didn’t even talk to you about it?”

Brienne shook her head. The conversation with her father replayed in her mind, but that was the extent of the topic. “Not really. My father asked if I would oppose a match with Daario. I didn’t give an answer so much as complain that my consent wouldn’t matter to him. He hadn’t brought it up since.”

Something flashed across Jaime’s face that Brienne couldn’t read. His brows furrowed as he considered something. “When did he ask you about Daario?”

“The day he woke up. He hadn’t mentioned it since.”

Jaime’s face fell. “Yesterday I sought his permission to ask you for your hand. That probably pushed him to speak with Daario.”

“What!? Brienne felt anger and betrayal wash over her. _He knew how I felt. He knew I loved Jaime, but I thought Jaime could never love someone like me. How could he let me believe Jaime didn’t love me? How could he not tell me when Jaime approached him yesterday?_

Jaime seemed taken aback by her reaction. “I’m sorry. My intention wasn’t to be such a deplorable option that it urged him to accept a man you barely know. It seems I unwittingly sealed your fate with fucking Daario.”

Jaime’s words were acrimonious, and he shook his head in frustration.

Brienne felt her jaw clench as her mind again wandered to her father’s scheming. “It hasn’t sealed shit. I haven’t spoken any vows. My father and I had a deal. I will see it honored.”

“A deal? What deal?”

“The last time my father forced a betrothal without my consent, I told him that I would not wed a man who could not best me in a fight. I think it’s time I truly spar Daario.”

A smile curled at Jaime’s lips. “No. You’re still healing, although I'm certain you could take him anyway, but… let me be your champion. Let me fight for you.”


	29. Curses (Jaime)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne make their case before Daenerys, Selwyn, and Daario

The first rays of sunlight were only just beginning to stretch their warmth across King’s Landing, but Jaime was wide awake. After kissing Brienne in the training yard and confessing his love, he had expected nothing short of full rejection. He had braced for it as their lips parted and their foreheads came together.

When instead of rejection, a confession of love requited came, Jaime knew that he would never be able to let her go. He knew that he would take whatever scraps Brienne gave him. But Brienne wasn’t cruel like Cersei.

She wouldn’t make Jaime hide in the shadows and wait obediently for stolen moments. She wouldn’t spend her night’s in another man’s bed while he lay awake alone and wondering if she thought of him. That would never be Brienne.

A feeling of love and pride burned through Jaime when Brienne said she would fight for her freedom from a forced match. In that moment, Jaime could think of nothing more important than being her champion. He would give his life for her so why not stake his heart on a spar.

Jaime had walked her back to her room; the halls still quiet as the feast carried on.

“I’ll inform my father and Daenerys tomorrow. I don’t know if I should bother informing Daario. He didn’t bother to inform me that we were betrothed.”

Jaime snorted at the words, but his mirth quickly faded as he looked around the hallway outside her door before pressing into her for a kiss. He wanted nothing more than to spend the night holding Brienne, but he knew her honor would prevent that. She would wait until she was free from Daario before letting him curl up behind her.

“Let me join you when you meet with them?” A small smile tugged at Brienne’s lips as she nodded in agreement.

“When I tell them that I want to fight for you, will you mind if my objective is to beat Daario to secure your freedom _and_ win your hand? I don’t intend to save you from one horrible betrothal just to see them make you another.”

“You sound quite jealous.” Brienne raised a teasing brow as she spoke the words at a barely audible volume.

With a small smile, Jaime met her eyes. “I do, don’t I?”

“And was that supposed to be a marriage proposal?”

“Yes, but don’t answer it now. I need to make it more dramatic. It wasn’t Lannister enough.”

Brienne rolled her eyes, but before she could reply, Jaime back her up against the door for one more kiss. “Goodnight, Lady Brienne. I’ll come get you in the morning.”

When Jaime watched the door close as she entered her room, he found himself practically skipping down the hallway. He finally knew love and it was returned. There was no shame or guilt in this love. It was pure and innocent.

Now he found himself back outside Brienne’s door the next morning. Jaime knew it was too early to call on a queen and the father of the woman you intended to marry, but he cared little for courtly behavior and expectations at that point. Where it concerned Brienne, nothing was too much.

Knocking on Brienne’s door, he was not surprised to find that Brienne was already dressed and ready for the day; Oathkeeper at her hip.

Brienne’s brows rose slightly in surprise when she locked eyes with Jaime.

“What? Expecting someone else? Daario?” Unlike last night, Jaime’s tone was light rather than laced with jealousy and disdain.

Rolling her eyes, Brienne stepped back from the doorway to let him in. “Bit early, isn’t it?”

Jaime feigned ignorance. “I hadn’t noticed. You’re awake.” Walking to the table, Jaime grabbed a grape from the bowl set in the middle of the table and gestured out the window. “The sun is up.” Popping the grape into his mouth, Jaime only offered a shrug.

“Right, well I imagine we’re the only ones awake now.”

Moving forward with a mischievous smirk on his face, Jaime pulled Brienne into his arms. “Fine. We’ll just have to pass the time.”

His lips found Brienne’s as he kissed her tenderly. Last night, Jaime kissed Brienne with a desperate passion fueled by years of longing. That morning, he kissed her softly hoping to pour the depth of his feelings into the kiss. He wanted to give her all of himself; his love for her eclipsing anything he had ever known.

Jaime hadn’t been prepared for how good it felt to kiss Brienne last night and that morning. Her lips were soft and warm against his. A deep groan pushed its way past Jaime’s lips as he guided her backwards. He felt his cock harden as his body pressed against her.

 _Seven hells. I’ll never survive her_. Jaime knew he needed to stop, or he would never let her leave this room. Breaking the kiss as he gasped for air, Jaime locked eyes with Brienne. “How soon can I fight him so we can find a Septon?”

Brienne huffed a laugh and ran her hand through his hair. Jaime leaned into her touch, praying to the seven for the strength to beat Daario.

Some time later, Jaime and Brienne found themselves standing before Daenerys, Selwyn, and Daario in the near empty throne room. Grey Worm and Missandei stood just behind them. Tyrion, Sansa, and Arya stood to Brienne’s left.

When Sansa saw them approaching Daenerys’ room earlier, she immediately launched into them with a million questions. Not wanting them to be left alone facing Selwyn and Daenerys, she insisted on joining. Jaime did not realize the young woman intended to bring additional support.

“So, cousin, what is all this about? You wanted to speak to the _three_ of us?” Daenerys looked questioningly to Arya, Sansa, and Tyrion standing to Brienne’s left. Jaime rolled his eyes as he met eyes with the Starks and Tyrion.

Jaime watched as Brienne swallowed nervously. “I had a deal with my father. Any man he betrothed me to would need to defeat me in a spar to win my hand.”

Selwyn huffed in annoyance and his face flushed with anger. “What are you on about girl!? That was years ago!”

“You agreed. We had a deal.”

Daario chuckled at their side and looked to Brienne. “I would love a dance my lady. I quite enjoy our sparring matches. Truly, Lord Tarth, I don’t mind.”

Brienne smiled at Daario and looked to Selwyn. “So, its settled. If I win, I get to decide.”

Selwyn scoffed. “That was not the deal, Brienne. The deal was that you wouldn’t have to marry the match I made for you.”

With a shrug of her shoulders, Brienne looked to him defiantly. “Well you had _two_ options and you couldn’t bother to speak with me about either. Forgive me if I don’t trust your judgement on the matter.”

At her words, Selwyn narrowed his eyes at Jaime. “I told you to stay away from my daughter!”

Before Jaime could respond, Brienne interjected; her tone rivaling her father’s rage. “And you told me that I was cursed with a face so unsightly that I couldn’t be loved. I don’t much care for what you told Ser Jaime.”

 _What!? By the Gods I will end this man_. Jaime had half a mind to walk over to Selwyn and run him through with his sword. If the looks on everyone else’s faces were any indication, this was the first they heard this as well.

Selwyn recoiled as if struck. “I did not say that Brienne!”

“Yes, you did. It’s the curse of the Gods, isn’t it father? You think I’m cursed with ugliness that I can’t be loved. You think Ser Jaime is cursed to lose any wife he takes and any child he sires. You think Daenerys is cursed to have no heirs. Those are your words. Not mine.”

Jaime felt his jaw slacken. Both he and Daenerys spoke at the same time “What?” 

Selwyn stammered and clenched his remaining fist at his side. “The curse of the Gods is true! Do not risk their wrath by mocking it girl.”

“Or what? They’ll make me uglier?” Brienne stared daggers at her father.

Daenerys turned to Selwyn with confusion writ on her face. “I don’t understand. Why would you say that? I told you why I’m infertile. It has nothing to do with the Gods.”

With a heavy sigh, Selwyn looked to her. “A witch didn’t do that child. The Gods did. Your great grandfather tried to stop the Targaryen practice of incest to avoid the curse. My grandfather told me of it! Duncan was practically kin to your line. He saw it all firsthand. Look what happened to my Aemma! A product of incest and she died! All my other children are dead. My only living heir mocked her entire life for her appearance.”

Jaime watched in horror as Selwyn ranted from beside Daenerys. The queen placed a calming hand on his arm. “Selwyn. Those were terrible things that happened to your family, but it is not caused by a curse. The Gods didn’t curse you or Aemma. My great-grandfather and your grandfather were _wrong_. My family died because of evils they committed. Is this truly why you won’t let Brienne be with Ser Jaime? He isn’t even a Targaryen!”

Jaime’s eyes darted between the two before him as he tried to make sense of it all. “He slept with his own sister! He put three babes in her belly! It matters not if he is a Targaryen. The Gods only care to punish incest; not the House. All his children are now dead. His sister dead. If he marries Brienne… no! I can’t. I can’t allow it. I won’t have her and any future babes she has die because of his mistakes.”

Daenerys turned back to Brienne and Jaime. Her mouth wide in shock. Her voice came out a strangled whisper. It was as though she saw a ghost.

“I’ll allow it. Cousin, if you defeat Daario per the deal with your father, you will not have to wed him. Selwyn, do you understand? It was your deal after all.”

Selwyn sighed and nodded. “I understand.”

Daenerys looked uneasy as she glanced at Brienne. “Brienne, you’re still not healed. I don’t think now is the time for this.”

Jaime stepped forward from Brienne’s side. “I’ll be her champion.”

Sansa and Tyrion sucked in audible breaths at his words.

Daenerys looked at Jaime strangely. “Her what?”

It was Tyrion’s voice that carried throughout the hall. “Her champion. In Westeros if a person stands accused of a crime, they can request a trial by combat. If the accused wishes, he or she can name a champion. Someone to fight in his or her place. Do you remember the story I told you of how I escaped? My champion lost and I was going to die before Jaime freed me.”

Turning back to Jaime, Daenerys eyed him suspiciously. “So instead of being a champion in an accused crime, you wish to be her champion in an arranged match?”

Jaime stared at Selwyn with narrowed eyes as he responded. “I see both as fighting for her life. It should be her decision who to wed. Not the decision of a man who calls her too ugly to be loved.”

“You twist my words! I did not call my daughter ugly!”

“You implied it.” This time, it was Daenerys who spoke. “That hurts just as much. I’m allowing this Selwyn. I am allowing the deal which you made with your daughter. I am allowing Ser Jaime to fight as her champion.”

“But that wasn’t the deal. The deal was that _she_ must beat the man.” Selwyn was incredulous, but no one else seemed bothered by the arrangement. For his part, Daario seemed amused.

Daenerys turned to Daario. “Do you still want to fight for her hand?”

Daario smiled warmly at Brienne. “I do. I think if we had more time to get to know one another, we could be a good match. I will respect the outcome of the match though.”

Taking a deep breath, Daenerys tilted up her chin and spoke commandingly. “If Ser Jaime wins, he may ask for Brienne’s hand and I will allow the match if _she_ agrees. If she does not agree, I will allow Brienne to pick her own husband as she should have been allowed from the beginning. I’m sorry, Brienne. I wasn’t aware of certain _reasons_.” Daenerys cast a long look back at Selwyn before looking back at them.

Selwyn raised a brow at Brienne; a sarcastic look on his face. “Shouldn’t Ser Jaime be required to fight you for your hand? Or will you let him beat you?”

“Ser Jaime has already bested me.” At Brienne’s words, Jaime’s head snapped to her. A questioning look on his face.

Selwyn scoffed and crossed his arms. “When!? I don’t believe he beat you. For Gods sakes girl, he has one hand and you’re one of the best with a sword!”

“On the way to Dragonstone. I even earned myself a memento for not yielding when I was defeated.” Brienne raised her hand in demonstration. A scar had formed where her hand had been stitched by the healer. “The second time was here in the training yard.”

Sansa abruptly stepped forward. “I can confirm it. Pod and I were there when they sparred just north of White Harbor. I also saw them fight here when I was… looking for them.”

With a knowing smile, Sansa looked to Jaime and Brienne.

Jaime felt his heart race with excitement. He was so close to finally being able to call Brienne his.

Daario stepped forward with an arrogant smile on his face. “Shall we spar then Ser Jaime? I’m quite excited at the prospect given how much I enjoyed sparring Lady Brienne. If you bested her… what was it… twice?... I assume you must be something spectacular.”

From the corner of his eye, Jaime saw Grey Worm’s eyes go wide. “No. Not today. Next week.”

Everyone turned in bewilderment to stare at the Unsullied Commander. Grey Worm looked anxiously to Missandei as though sending a silent plea for help.

Jaime saw the woman’s jaw go slack as she seemed to work through something in her mind. “Yes, it has to wait. Your Grace, you just announced the betrothal last night. Lady Brienne is your heir and it is not a trivial matter if your named heir is suddenly no longer betrothed mere hours after your proclamation. We can announce the duel to the nobility you made the decree in front of.”

Seemingly pleased with herself, Missandei looked to Daenerys; a silent conversation passing between them. With a nod of her head, Daenerys agreed. “A week it is. That will give us time to ensure those we made the announcement before are aware of the new arrangement.”

Looking between Jaime and Daario, Daenerys smiled and spoke. “Good luck to each of you. I’m confident you will both fight well in honor of my beloved cousin.”

At her words, Selwyn and Daario began to speak with one another before exiting the room together. Jaime was disheartened that he would need to wait a week, but something about the exchange between Grey Worm, Missandei, and Daenerys, made it seem there was a deeper reason.

When Selwyn and Daario were well out of earshot, Grey Worm strode forward and spoke to Jaime. “He fight dirty. All Second Son do. I train you on his style and Unsullied style.”

 _Fuck. I had not considered that. Bronn was a dirty fighter_ _too; got to me every time_. Jaime nodded in thanks, but Arya was soon at Grey Worm’s side. “I’ll teach you my style too. Plus, we’re both lefthanded. I can correct your sloppy grip on the hilt.” _What?_

Grey Worm smiled at Arya and looked back to Jaime. “Cohollo will help. He like you two be together. He also say you have big balls to say things you say in front of Khaleesi.” Missandei chuckled at the words and nodded. “Yes, it’s true.”

Daenerys offered a small smile at Jaime before glancing to Brienne. “My style involves dragons and while I will cheer for you, I won’t see my friend turned to ash. I’ll leave you all to it then.” Daenerys turned and left the room but stopped to meet Sansa’s eyes.

“I will break the wheel. You have my word. Mayhap it would be easier to do so with a Master of Laws… let me know if a female wolf interested in the role comes to mind. Mayhap one who already has a reason to stay in the city.” Daenerys smirked at Tyrion before exiting the room.

As Grey Worm began discussing a proper training schedule, Sansa looked at everyone a warily. “Don’t get me wrong… I think this is all quite wonderful, but are we not going to talk about the fact that Brienne’s future is at stake against one of Daenerys’ best fighters, and Brienne’s champion has one hand?”


	30. Training a Lion (Arya)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya oversees Jaime's training in the yards.

“Sloppy! Again!” Arya raised her sword as she glared at Jaime. He was heaving from the exertion and his sword dropped to his side.

“Fucking hells! You’re worse than Grey Worm and Cohollo.” Jaime grimaced as he rolled his shoulders and moved back into position.

“You keep gripping the sword wrong and it’s going to get knocked from your hands.” Arya reprimanded Jaime as she looked to his left hand wrapped weakly around the hilt.

With an exaggerated eye roll, Jaime met Arya’s eyes. “I’ve been training with a sword longer than you’ve been alive! I think I know how to hold steel.”

“Well I’ve been lefthanded longer than you have. You’re doing it wrong!” Arya sheathed her sword and moved at Jaime. At her approach, Jaime’s brows furrowed in confusion.

Moving to his side, Arya repositioned his hand. She had seen righthanded men fight. They angled the sword differently to enable faster response time and more fluid strikes.

When she began working with Syrio in King’s Landing many years ago, she learned that to fight lefthanded meant holding the sword differently. She couldn’t mimic those with a dominant righthand if she wanted to win.

“You hold the sword like a man who fought his entire life with the other hand. With the left, it is different.” Arya repositioned Jaime’s hand on the hilt; a smile tugging at her lips as he tested it out.

“Oh.” Jaime marveled at the more fluid movement he produced from the hold.

With a snort, Arya returned to her position. “Alright idiot, ready?”

Jaime huffed at Arya before lifting his sword into position. While she would never admit it, Arya loved sparring against Jaime. She had idolized him in youth despite his reputation. All she ever heard about growing up was what an amazing swordsman Jaime was. It’s all the entirety of Westeros heard about really.

It wasn’t until she faced him that Arya realized the truth of it. _Gods if he is this good with his left, I can’t imagine what he was like with this right. Not that I’ll ever admit to his skill. Gods knows we don’t need to inflate that giant head._

Arya would never forget the first time she saw Jaime ride through the gates of Winterfell looking every part the golden knight. Of course his reputation proceeded him and his smile was cutting. Arya was unnerved by the man and feared approaching him.

Now she chuckled at het memory. _He plays the role of the dangerous lion well, but he’s a docile housecat. So damn emotional and needy_.

At Dragonstone, Tyrion had shared the truth of Aerys with Sansa. When Sansa had pulled Arya aside and asked her to keep an eye on Jaime during the battle, asked Arya to keep him safe, Arya guffawed. “The Kingslayer! You want me to keep an eye on him to ensure his safety… not his death?”

Sansa explained the truth behind Aerys’ slaying. She also shared everything she observed between Brienne and Jaime, starting with what she knew of the pair’s journey together under their mother’s orders.

Arya wasn’t a romantic like Sansa. She cared little for the affection between Jaime and Brienne, but she was amazed at the real reason for Jaime’s broken vows. _I suppose he is more like a vigilante housecat_.

They fought back and forth a while longer with Jaime’s corrected grip. Jaime improved drastically and Arya was surprised to find her arm fatiguing. He was stronger than she expected with his left; although it had been years since his maiming and he had ample time to practice.

When they finished, Arya called over Cohollo. Jaime looked at Arya as though she just pulled off her own face. “What!? I have to keep fighting? I am old. You do realize that, don’t you?”

Arya rolled her eyes. “Yes, but that is exactly why you have to keep fighting. You are old. Daario is younger than you and likely stronger. You need to work on conditioning.”

“He is _not_ stronger than me! Ask Brienne.” A smirk tugged at Jaime’s lips as he looked across the yard to his lady love. Brienne had been training with Pod for some time as other soldiers sparred around them. Arya noticed that Brienne was still a bit weak, but much improved as her wound healed.

“Ugh gross. I don’t want to hear about any of it and I certainly won’t ask Brienne for her assessment of your strength.” Arya looked back to see Cohollo approach. The temperature in King’s Landing that week had been unbearable and the Dothraki warrior looked right at home.

Arya had never been more jealous of another person’s attire. The Dothraki men and women were much more accustomed to the heat and their clothing was far more appropriate for training in the oppressive sun.

Daenerys had ventured to the yards to watch Jaime train two days prior and the queen herself complained of the heat. When she saw how badly Arya and Brienne were suffering and, unlike the men, unable to remove their tunics, Daenerys asked the Dothraki women to make them more appropriate attire.

Regrettably, Arya’s new clothing was back in her room as she hadn’t expected the day to get quite so hot. Brienne wore her new top underneath her tunic. The Dothraki women had knitted them sleeveless tops cropped high at the midriff which allowed for coverage of their chests while also ensuring they survived the heat during training.

When Arya tried hers on, she marveled at how good it felt to swing a sword with no sweaty fabric clinging to her shoulders. Daenerys told them she had worn the same style top during her time across the Narrow Sea. Arya resolved that someday, she would explore the area.

Cohollo chuckled as he appraised Jaime. Arya couldn’t help but chuckle herself. The aged knight’s short hair was sweaty and sticking out all over the place. Jaime had abandoned his tunic long ago and was starting to develop a sunburn over his chiseled body.

“You look like you lady love when she embarrass or angry.” Jaime snorted at Cohollo’s words and looked to Brienne in the distance. “Well I hope she is at least wearing a tunic when you see her in such a state.”

Arya took a seat on the stonework lining the yard and soon felt a presence at her side. Turning to her left, Arya watched as Sansa sat beside her.

“You look like shit.” Arya stared at Sansa while her accusatory tone elicited an eyeroll from her older sister. Sansa was flushed from the heat and sweating profusely. 

“I didn’t exactly pack for a trip that involved moving even further south than Dragonstone!” Sansa shifted uncomfortably in her long black dress. The neckline went all the way up to her chin and the sleeves were long and fitted.

Arya snorted and looked back to watch as Cohollo and Jaime began exchanging blows. “You’re such a priss. Borrow one of Brienne’s tunics and roll up the sleeves.”

Sansa’s nose crinkled in disgust. I will not wear men’s attire just because the two women I happen to surround myself with fancy themselves knights.

Arya glanced sideways at Sansa who was now focused on the sparring session before them. With an audible groan, Sansa shook her head and spoke to Arya. “Great. One-handed AND a sunburn. Any other challenges he wants to take on for this? Does he plan to cut off a leg too.”

Arya considered her point, but Sansa wasn’t a fighter. She didn’t understand that where it concerned matters of life or death, a sunburn wouldn’t be what held Jaime back. For Jaime, this match was life or death.

“How has he been fairing?” Sansa’s brows knitted in worry as she continued to watch the men spar. Cohollo was gaining the upper hand and Jaime was tiring quickly.

Arya sighed as she appraised Jaime. “He is old, without his dominant hand, and… apparently… sunburnt.”

Sansa exhaled loudly as Arya's lips curled into a wolfish grin. “Luckily for the idiot, he is strong and in good shape. He is also a quick learner with weapons and one of the better swordsmen I’ve faced.”

Arya’s mind wandered to Gendry. She had seen him shirtless before and noted that he was in excellent shape. Arya had been surprised to find Jaime of similar build despite being older.

“You could have started with that!” Sansa huffed in frustration as Arya enjoyed the sight of her sister’s face setting in irritation. It was an expression so familiar to the one Arya often ellicted from Sansa in their youth.

Abruptly, the Stark sisters’ attention was caught by Cohollo knocking Jaime’s sword from his hand. Jaime threw back his head in frustration and ran his hand through his hair.

“Well stop moping and go again!” Arya yelled at Jaime from her spot on the rocks. 

“I’m tired! I’ve been out here for hours.” Jaime groaned at Arya while Cohollo laughed and moved back to his starting position. Not far behind Jaime, Pod and Brienne had paused to get water while other soldiers trained around them.

Pod took off his tunic and Brienne took off hers to reveal the top Daenerys had the Dothraki women fashion for her.

Jaime’s head snapped to Brienne like some green boy; gaping at her as though he had never seen a woman’s exposed shoulders and midriff before. Arya scoffed as Jaime became instantly distracted. His eyes roamed Brienne's body.

“Well that isn’t going to help him concentrate. Tell Brienne to put the tunic back on.” Sansa complained at Arya’s side.

“Hey idiot! You might want to watch your opponent and stop gawking at Brienne!” Arya bellowed out to Jaime as Cohollo huffed impatiently.

“Brienne! What are you doing!?” Jaime threw his arms out and looked at her as though she had gone mad.

Brienne stopped her assault against Pod and looked to Jaime in confusion. “Sparring. Shouldn’t you be doing the same?”

“You’re naked!”

“What!? I’m not naked!”

Jaime gestured animatedly to his middle and shoulders. “It’s all just… out!”

Cohollo chuckled and looked to Brienne approvingly. “I like. Look like Dothraki warrior woman. Tight body.”

Jaime glared at the man before turning back to Brienne. “Where is your bloody armor?”

Brienne scoffed and turned back to Pod as they began exchanging blows.

Arya and Sansa exchanged unamused looks as Jaime’s focus was completely taken by Brienne’s lean body moving gracefully with her sword in hand. The slight curve of her hips and waist exposed by the gap between her breeches and top.

Cohollo yelled at him to pay attention, but Jaime couldn’t seem to stop drooling over the sight of Brienne. With a shake of his head, Cohollo swung down; reclaiming Jaime’s attention. Jaime quickly deflected the strike and moved around the yard. His eyes again moved to Brienne as he raised his sword to position.

 _This fucking idiot. We’ll have to make sure Brienne is dressed in ten layers at the fight_. Before Cohollo charged Jaime again, something caught Jaime’s eye as he looked to Brienne. Turning back to Cohollo, his face contorted in rage as he deflected the blow and countered aggressively.

Cohollo was back on his heels, struggling to block the torrent of blows from Jaime. The Dothraki warrior fell backwards onto his ass and dropped his weapon as Jaime stood over him.

 _Woah!_ Arya leapt forward from her spot on the rock. “What the fuck was that!? Where did that come from!?”

Jaime looked to Arya and shrugged. “I just got… angry.” Arya moved towards Jaime for answers and felt Sansa's presence at her side.

“Why were you mad? Because Cohollo interrupted you from eye fucking Brienne?” Arya’s voice was teasing yet equally curious at what drove the stream of well-placed strikes.

Jaime rolled his eyes and shook his head. “No, I just… something made me mad.”

 _I could work with that_. Sansa spoke quickly at Arya's side. “What made you mad? Can you just try to think about whatever made you mad during the fight with Daario? Do you want Arya to make japes at your expense? Do you want us to do our best impression of Tywin and tell you what a huge disappointment you are?”

Jaime snorted and picked up his tunic from the side of the yard, but Arya grabbed his arm before he could put it on. “What made you angry?”

Jaime glanced over at Brienne and Pod training. He pointed in Brienne’s direction and sighed. “The wound from Cersei’s attack. I could raise that vile bitch from the seven hells and kill her again.”

Arya’s brows furrowed as she turned to look at Brienne.

Brienne raised her sword to swing at Pod. The wound on her side was exposed and vicious looking. Arya and Sansa exchanged a knowing glance. _I need to find a way to ensure he remembers this feeling throughout his fight with Daario._


	31. The Dragon Pit (Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the fight arrives and Sansa wonders if Jaime can truly beat Daario.

“You need to wear this top, Brienne!” Sansa’s tone was imploring, but Brienne was hearing none of it.

Brienne groaned in protest as she pushed the Dothraki top away. “I’m not the one fighting. Ser Jaime is.”

“This isn’t about fighting. It will help _motivate_ him.” Sansa was desperate and receiving little help from Arya. Her younger sister was too busy shoving crumb cake into her mouth.

“I fail to see how my attire is going to motivate him to do anything that he won’t already be trying to do.” Brienne moved to sit next to Arya and reached for the fruit platter on the table in Sansa’s chambers.

“Arya! A little help here!?” Putting her hands on her hips, Sansa stared wide eyed in frustration as Arya met her gaze; an oblivious expression on her face. “What?”

“The top, Arya! Surely you remember.” Looking to the discarded garment on the far end of the table, Arya shrugged and returned to eating her crumb cake. “Not sure it matters. I have a different approach that doesn’t require staring at Brienne’s stomach.”

 _Seven hells!_ A knock at the door distracted Sansa from her pleading with Brienne. Moving to answer it, she glanced back at the two women who were contentedly eating and chatting about the merits of longswords versus daggers. _I can’t live like this._

Pulling back the door, Sansa smiled at the sight of Tyrion. Jaime stood just behind him looking absently down the hallway. “Thank the Gods! I’ve been stuck in here alone with them. They won’t stop talking about weapons.”

Tyrion snorted and pressed a kiss to Sansa’s lips as she kneeled to greet him. Jaime quickly moved passed them and took a seat next Brienne. Turning towards the three fighters, Sansa rolled her eyes. “Yes, and good day to you too goodbrother. Please, do come in and make yourself comfortable.”

Jaime looked back with a smirk as he shoved a crumb cake into his mouth and mumbled a hello; crumbs spilling out from his mouth onto the floord. _Why is he not nervous!? I’m having palpitations over this and they’re carrying on as though they’re going on a stroll in the gardens later._

Turning back to Tyrion, Sansa spoke in hushed tones. “Is he taking this too lightly? He seems far too at ease and it’s making me nervous.”

With a small chuckle, Tyrion leaned into her eat whispered. “I brought him here to see Brienne so he would settle down. He has been madly pacing around my room and lost his stomach twice.”

 _Gods. I don’t want him that nervous_. With knitted brows, Sansa looked back to see Brienne and Jaime having one of their wordless conversations. Brienne exhaled audibly and they stood to leave without so much as a word to anyone.

Arya, Tyrion, and Sansa exchanged concerned looks as Jaime and Brienne left the room. “Gods. Is he having a meltdown?” Arya looked at Tyrion inquiringly with a raised brow.

“I don’t know. He never fretted over matches during tourneys before and he has seen many opponents. He was always rather confident; perhaps too much so. Addam has always said that in battle, nothing bothers Jaime.”

“So now what? Should we go find them? Tell him to stop being such a baby about it?” At Arya’s question, Sansa and Tyrion glanced to one another. Knowing Tyrion as she did, Sansa felt they were of similar mindset. “No, if Brienne can’t settle him, no one can.”

The look on Tyrion’s face told Sansa her assumption was correct. With a sigh, Tyrion walked towards the table and sat down to eat. “And now… we wait.”

Hours later, Sansa wiped the sweat from her brow as their group walked towards the Dragon Pit. At her side, Tyrion looked equally anxious and he was already multiple cups of wine into the day. The near empty flagon swung at his side as he nervously glanced towards his brother.

Sanas’s eyes flitted to Jaime. Since he left the room earlier with Brienne, no one had seen them until moments ago when they returned to the castle to get Jaime’s weapons and make their way to the Dragon Pit.

Jaime’s facial features were set in fierce determination as he strode forward with Brienne at his side. Arya was a bundle of energy in front of them; turning to walk backwards while giving harsh reminders to Jaime about his lefthanded grip and various maneuvers they had gone over that week.

Jaime rolled his eyes and a deep sigh pushed past his lips. “Whatever would I do without your reminders to swing my sword _at_ Daario and ‘do try not to lose’.”

A million thoughts went through Sansa’s calculating mind as she looked back to Jaime and Brienne. So many things she wanted to say but was afraid to unsettle them further. It seemed whatever words they exchanged in private had the desired effect as Jaime was looking more his usual, arrogantly charming, overconfident self.

When they entered the Pit, Sansa’s mouth dropped in surprise. Masses of people had turned up to watch the fight between Daario and Jaime. Standing in the center of the pit was Daenerys, Selwyn, Grey Worm, Missandei, Cohollo, and Varys.

Daario was crouched at the edge of the platform, laughing and talking with a few of his men from the Second Sons. His men stood at ground level and leaned against the edge of the platform as they carried on bawdily. There were roughly twenty men from the Second Son pressed to the righthand side of the pit, but the rest of the pit was a sea of crimson and gold.

Sansa and Tyrion exchanged a look and smiled brightly. They had gotten word out to the men from the West and anyone in Westeros wishing to support _their_ fighter. _Their_ commander. _Their_ protector from mad kings and queens.

Varys smiled knowingly. _His little birds work quickly_. _Ser Jaime might still be called Kingslayer, but it will no longer be with disdain_. Daario seemed a kind man, but Jaime was of Westeros and Sansa meant to leverage that. Looking around the pit, Sansa approximated two to three hundred were crammed into the space representing many who fought with them against Cersei.

Sansa chuckled at the sight of Grey Worm, Missandei and Cohollo. It seemed the Lannister soldiers had supplied them with the crimson cloaks as were worn by their ranks. The lack of impartiality did not go unnoticed by Selwyn. He looked less than pleased with the turnout and the sea of Lannister colors before him.

Entering the pit, Sansa glanced at Jaime and Brienne. Both were in shock at the sight of Westerosi dressed in the very house colors that not long ago was considered the enemy. _Gods, please don’t let this make him even more nervous. I asked to get word out for some support… not an army._

The sea of humanity began to clear a path for them as they walked to the steps leading up the platform. One of the Lannister soldiers shouted out. “The golden lion is here!” A loud cheer erupted from the crowd as they moved towards the stairs to the raised platform.

Sansa could see Jaime paling slightly as they moved forward. Brienne muttered something to him that Sansa couldn’t make out, but whatever she said snapped him out of his stupor. His brows furrowed as he spoke firmly. “No! I’m doing this.”

They walked up the steps and towards Daenerys. At the back of the raised platform, chairs had been set out under a canopy. The men and women below were on their feet and pressed as far forward as they could get to the platform. Those who were front row placed their elbows onto the platform and pounded it eagerly with their hands.

As they approached and Daario joined them in the center, Daenerys reminded them of what was at stake. They could only use two weapons each. Jaime had his sword and dagger. Daario had his arakh and dagger.

Sansa looked warily at the arakh. The weapon looked deadly and Sansa was immediately thankful for Cohollo helping Jaime practice against it. Daenerys gave Jaime and Daario another moment to ready themselves as she, Selwyn, Missandei, Tyrion, and Varys moved to sit down.

Daario moved to his side of the platforms and started stretching his arms out as he returned to making idle conversation with his men.

Grey Worm, Cohollo, and Arya continued peppering him with last minute reminders and Sansa could tell it was overwhelming Jaime more than helping. “Alright, I think he’s got it.”

Pulling Arya back by the arm, Sansa inclined her head towards the seats. Arya, Cohollo, and Grey Worm finally retreated to the covered space as Sansa and Brienne remained with Jaime.

Sansa grabbed Jaime by the arm and locked eyes with him. “I forbid you from losing this fight! I don’t want to see Daario next to Brienne when I renew my vows with your brother.”

At her words, Jaime’s eyes widened in worry. _Yes, remember that. My friend will always be at family events. You will not scape this loss._

With a deep breath, Jaime collected himself and looked resolutely into Sansa’s eyes. “He can’t beat me. I’m fighting for something greater than he is.”

Satisfied with his focus, Sansa quickly moved to her seat and sat down next to Tyrion. “I HATE fights. I do hope my goodbrother doesn’t fuck this up.” Tyrion placed a comforting hand on hers, but he was clearly worried too.

Looking at Jaime, Sansa observed that he was rapidly whispering something to Brienne. She nodded and moved to her seat as Jaime turned to face Daario. 

Daario smiled arrogantly at Jaime before turning to Daenerys and bowing. After acknowledging the queen, Daario shouted to Brienne. “Tell me sweetling, would you like to wed here or on Tarth?”

Something deadly passed through Jaime’s eyes as he unsheathed his sword and glared at Daario. Without smiling, Brienne looked to Daario before turning her attention to Jaime. “I hear the West has better views at sunset for such an occasion.”

At Brienne’s defiant words, the men from the West cheered loudly and Sansa saw the corners of Jaime’s lips tug into a smile. Daenerys spoke commandingly from her seat; a teasing lilt in her voice. “Enough talk Daario. I think your opponent means to take off your head now.”

Daario chuckled and raised his arakh to Jaime. “Come now, lets go. My bride awaits.”

With narrowed eyes, Jaime raised his sword at Daario and their weapons soon came together. For what seemed an eternity, both Jaime and Daario exchanged strikes and parries; neither truly gaining the advantage, but both testing each other cautiously.

Sansa gripped Tyrion’s hand firmly and reminded herself to keep breathing in and out. _Honestly. One hand against two. How did we let this happen?_

Arya, Grey Worm, and Cohollo began barking instruction at Jaime as the crowds shouted wildly. _I doubt Jaime can hear any of it now._

Watching the two men fight, Sansa noted that they were both surprisingly fast. Jaime was the taller of the two and had longer reach, but Daario was nimble like Arya; darting in and out. Both seemed equally matched in strength thus far, but Jaime did appear more fluid in his movement.

Daario swung hard across aiming for Jaime’s neck, but Sansa’s goodbrother moved back in time and spun around to nearly land a winning blow at Daario’s side. Blocking just in time, Daario’s eyes widened, and something passed over his features.

 _He has been toying with Jaime_. Sansa gripped Tyrion’s hand tighter as Daario took his attack to an entirely new level. His strikes were a flurry and Jaime was soon back on his heels, clearly caught off guard by the assault.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Arya gritted out the words at Sansa’s side. From the corner of her eye, Sansa could see Brienne lean forward and stiffen at the sight. At the last moment when it appeared Jaime was done for, he ducked low and spun under a wild swing by Daario.

Moving back in the opposite direction, Sansa could see the first signs of worry in Jaime’s face _. Daario is too good_. Cohollo shouted out from down the row. “Inside guard!”

Whatever he said, Jaime responded as Cohollo wanted. Sansa watched as Jaime moved his blade at a different angle and shoved it inside the crescent shaped arakh. Jaime used the space between his blade and sword guard to trap the blade of the arakh and pry it from Daario’s grip.

Daario’s eyes widened in surprise as he barely dodged a second swing of the sword from Jaime. Standing upright as Jaime’s blade was safely passed his head, Daario delivered a hard punch Jaime’s face.

 _What the fuck!_ “Can he do that!?” Sansa looked up and down the row. Judging by the reactions of the actual fighters seated beside her, it wasn’t technically against the rules, but it was not clean nor honest.

Jaime stumbled slightly and struggled to rub the pain from his right eye. Taking advantage of Jaime’s temporary daze, Daario kicked his foot into the back of Jaime’s knee and sent him to the ground.

Grabbing Jaime in a tight headlock, Daario smiled and stared down at him while squeezing his air supply off. Jaime dropped his sword and tried to grab at Daario’s arm to alleviate the pressure, but the sellsword was too strong.

Daario reached to his hip for his dagger and Sansa squeezed Tyrion’s hand in panic. _No! Jaime block it!_ Tyrion yelped at the pressure on his hand as Arya and Cohollo began shouting. 

Daario’s mocking voice lifted over the voices screaming instruction at Jaime. “Don’t worry my friend, I’ll take good care of her. No death by wildfire on my watch.”

At Daario’s words, _that_ look returned to Jaime’s eyes. The one Sansa and Arya observed in the training yard a couple of days ago when Jaime caught sight of Brienne’s wound.

Before Daario could move the dagger near Jaime’s neck to force a yield, Jaime grabbed Daario’s left arm which was wrapped around tightly his neck and rotated his hip to twist Daario up and over his shoulder.

As Daario landed hard and rolled across the platform, the dagger fell well out of his reach. Jaime grabbed his sword and with labored breathing, he launched himself at Daario. Daario reached for his arakh just in time to meet the first swing, but Jaime was a man possessed.

Sansa had never seen a swordsman move a blade so quickly and adeptly; twirling the sword at all angles in his wrist as he delivered blow after blow. Daario could barely block each strike as he stumbled backwards; eyes wide in shock.

Nearing the edge of the platform, Daario lost his footing and fell backwards into the sea of onlookers. As he landed hard on his back with his weapon still in hand, Daario pushed himself backwards with his feet and free hand to try and escape.

Jaime pounced off the platform like a lion going in for the kill. A well-placed strike through Daario’s tunic saw the sellsword’s dominant arm pinned down by Widow’s Wail. The valyrian steel stood upright, thrust blade first into the ground. Jaime smoothly produced his dagger and held it at Daario’s throat. Snarling at the man, Jaime yelled. “Yield!?”

Daario glanced at the dagger to his neck and Jaime’s well-placed sword through his tunic pinning him to the ground, rendering him incapable of a counterattack. Everyone on the platform was standing from their seat and awaiting Daario’s word.

“Yield.” The sellsword smiled at Jaime and nodded slightly.

Jaime leaned back and sheathed his dagger before standing to pull Widow’s Wail from the ground and Daario’s tunic.

Daario stood up and laughed as he inspected the hole in his tunic. Sansa marveled at how accurate Jaime’s strike had been. If he had been off by even an inch, he would have sliced into Daario’s arm or left the sellsword able to counter with his armed hand.

The crowd erupted into a cheer as Daario clapped Jaime on the shoulder. “Good match. You two are quite well matched.”

Sansa screamed with delight and pulled Tyrion into a hug. From over Tyrion’s shoulder, she could see Arya, Grey Worm, and Cohollo celebrating wildly.

Standing from her embrace of Tyrion, Sansa looked to the queen. A wide smile was plastered on Daenerys’ face as she turned to Brienne.

Brienne stood stunned at what she had witnessed; a smile quickly spreading across her face. Selwyn was the only person in the entire Dragon Pit who looked miserable.

Hopping onto the stage like a man half his age, Jaime moved quickly towards Brienne and planted a firm kiss to her lips. Sansa had to hide the laugh pushing past her lips as Selwyn looked as though he may die of heart failure.

Breaking the kiss, Sansa overheard Jaime whisper to Brienne. “You can answer that question now. I think this is the right level of dramatic. Definitely Lannister enough.”

Brienne guffawed as Jaime kept his arms wrapped around her waist. “Yes, I suppose you’ll do. It’s my duty after all.”

“Oh good. I would hate to have you marry me for more Sansa-like reasons of romance or love.”

Sansa scoffed and feigned offense, but she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face at the sight of her goodbrother and friend so happy. 

Jaime glanced sideways at Selwyn before looking back to Brienne. “I should warn you… I’m cursed.”

Brienne snorted. “Well I should warn you… I’m unlovable and ugly.”

The pair laughed together as Jaime whispered. “Perfect. We’ll make a fine match.”

Turning back to Arya, Sansa saw the wolfish grin on her face as she looked to Daario. Something about Arya’s expression made Sansa take pause. Moving to Arya’s side, she whispered in her ear. “What did you do?”

Arya met Sansa’s eyes and feigned innocence. “Me? What makes you think I did anything?”

With a disbelieving tilt of her head, Sansa raised a brow at Arya. A light chuckle pushed past Arya’s lips. “I told Daario that when he was about to win, he should rub it in. Mock Jaime’s inability to keep Brienne safe from the kind of shit Cersei did to her.”

Sansa’s mouth curled into a vicious smile; mirroring Arya’s. “I can’t believe you did that.”

With a slight shrug, Arya looked to Brienne and Jaime who were speaking with Daenerys. “I told you that I had a plan.”


	32. I Am His (Brienne)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Immediately after the fight, decisions are made.

Standing in the center of the Dragon Pit with a cheering crowd and Jaime’s arms wrapped around her waist felt surreal. Brienne was still in shock by what she had seen, but she couldn’t begin to deconstruct the fight. All she could focus on was Jaime.

With a wide smile on her face, Daenerys approached them; her violet eyes shining with mirth. “Well, it seems I’ll be gaining a goodcousin soon. I assume she has agreed to wed you?”

Jaime looked into Brienne’s eyes with a boyish grin on his face. “She has. We should be quick about it before she comes to her senses.”

 _How can this be real? How can Jaime Lannister want someone like me? How can he be this happy? All my life I’ve been told what an unpleasant duty it would be for any man to wed me_.

Before she could respond, her father approached. Selwyn looked downtrodden and met Brienne’s eyes uneasily. “A word?”

With a sigh, Brienne nodded and stepped away from Jaime to speak with Daenerys. As Brienne moved to leave, Daenerys grabbed her arm and spoke commandingly while keeping her eyes fixed on Selwyn. “Remember, if this is what you want, it is final.” Brienne knew the words were more for her father than herself.

Glancing at Selwyn, Brienne watched as he nodded his head understandingly. They stepped to the side of the platform and Selwyn spoke in hushed tones. His blue eyes a desperate plea. “Please, child. You don’t need to do this. I apologize if Daario wasn’t to your taste. It was bad form not consulting you on the matter, but we can find another.”

“Stop.” At Brienne’s words, Selwyn flinched and met her eyes. “You told me at Dragonstone that your parents fought your marriage to mother. They said she was cursed; the product of incest. You also told me that you will never regret ignoring your parents’ wishes and marrying Aemma because it would have meant regretting me. Well I will never regret ignoring your wishes and marrying Jaime, even if it kills me on the morrow. I would rather know love for a day than never at all. Besides, if he loves me and thinks me beautiful, how can I be cursed? And if I’m not cursed, why should he be?”

A feeling of victory coursed through her as she watched her father’s stunned face stammer for words that would not come. “If you truly love me as you say you do, stop trying to make me miserable.”

Brienne walked back to Jaime and Daenerys; the former’s eyes conveying a slight panic. With a shake of her head, Brienne let Jaime know there was nothing to worry about. Nothing to stand in their way. Jaime visibly relaxed and reached for Brienne’s hand.

Daenerys continued to stand beside Jaime, but she was currently occupied by Varys speaking into her ear. Pulling her close, Jaime whispered. “The queen wants to host a massive wedding for you. What do you want?”

At the thought of a large wedding with guests staring at her ungainliness, Brienne felt herself pale. “That sounds miserable.”

Jaime’s mouth pulled into a wide smile. “So, will you marry me today then?”

Brienne’s brows in shock. “Today?” Before they could speak further, Daenerys turned her attention back to them.

“Brienne. I trust my uncle didn’t give you a difficult time.” With a raised brow and a knowing smirk, Daenerys glanced briefly at Selwyn who was sitting in his chair, speaking with Tyrion.

Daenerys turned back to meet Brienne’s eyes before continuing. “I was just debating with your betrothed. I want to give you the grand wedding you deserve, but he isn’t entirely convinced you want the same. He insisted we let you decide. Given my recent error in similar approach, I concur that the decision should be yours.”

Brienne offered a small smile. “I thank you for the offer, but I don’t want a big wedding.”

Her disappointment was evident, but Daenerys smiled. “It is your day. I suppose I’ll just need to convince my Hand to let me throw a large feast for his vow renewals.”

Daenerys sighed and glanced between them. “So, when?”

With an imploring smile, Jaime stared at Brienne. _Surely, he japes_. “You can’t be serious?” Brienne appraised his eyes for any signs of jest, but she found nothing but honesty.

“I am serious, but only if you want to. I’ll wait as long as you like.” When Jaime confirmed his desire, Brienne considered the ask. Glancing at Daenerys, Brienne observed the question writ across her face. With a shrug and smile, Brienne looked back to Jaime. “Alright. Lets do it then.”

Jaime’s smile grew impossibly wider. “Today.” He spoke the words definitively without taking his eyes off Brienne.

“Today!? It’s midday! I hardly have time to prepare!” Daenerys huffed, but Brienne and Jaime were again lost in one another. The queen’s loud complaint drew the attention of the others on stage.

As Daenerys shared her consternation, Brienne could hear a mix of complaints and laughter. Complaints from Sansa and Tyrion who, like the queen, wanted to more elaborate affair. Laughter from Grey Worm, Arya, and Cohollo. Brienne didn’t care. She had Jaime.

Hours later, she stood on the veranda overlooking the Blackwater where she and Jaime once stood years ago. It was the spot they had observed Sansa upon returning from the Riverlands. A weary looking Septon stood before them; clearly unamused at the last-minute request by the queen.

Both Jaime and Brienne stood before each other in breeches, tunics, and jerkins; their twin swords strapped at their hips.

Standing nearby were Daenerys, Tyrion, Grey Worm, Missandei, Cohollo, Sansa, Arya, Pod, and Ser Addam. For Brienne it was almost perfect. _If only my father was here_.

The Septon looked between them before beginning. “Do you have your cloaks and the ribbon?” Jaime nodded and pointed to Tyrion who held a Lannister cloak and ribbon. It wasn’t as ornate as a typical wedding cloak, but Brienne didn’t care.

With a smile and nod, the Septon looked from Jaime to Brienne. “And a maiden cloak?” Embarrassment colored Brienne’s cheeks as she frowned slightly. Brienne shook her head in denial. “I’m sorry. I don’t.”

With an unimpressed look, the Septon shook his head and sighed. “I suppose we’ll make do.

“Wait! I’m coming.” Brienne’s eyes widened in shock as she saw her father running towards them; a Tarth cloak tucked under his arm.

As he approached, Selwyn offered a small smile to Brienne. “It’s mine. A bit dingy from the black cells, but it’s all I could find in our colors.”

Brienne felt her eyes mist slightly as she nodded in thanks. Selwyn placed it around her shoulders before he stepped back and stood off to the side, away from everyone else. His head hung slightly in shame as several of from their gathered group glared at him.

It was Daenerys who quietly moved to stand beside him; placing her arm through his. Brienne knew the two exchanged words a week ago when Brienne exposed Selwyn’s true reason for not wanting to see her and Jaime wed. While Daenerys had kept her composure in front of the group, Brienne heard Daenerys raging at Selwyn behind closed doors.

The Septon appraised Brienne and hummed contentedly. He opened with some words before instructing Jaime. “You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.”

Turning to Tyrion, Jaime took the cloak from his brother and smiled excitedly at Brienne. Tyrion then stepped forward to take the makeshift maiden cloak as Jaime draped the Lannister cloak over Brienne’s shoulders.

Taking the ribbon from Tyrion, the Septon stepped forward and positioned Jaime and Brienne shoulder to shoulder. Jaime’s left hand and Brienne’s right were quickly bound by the ribbon and the Septon cleared this throat.

“Let it be known that Brienne Tarth and Jaime Lannister are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

The Septon continued. “We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. You may now look upon each other and say the words.”

Brienne and Jaime looked at one another with eager smiles. Lost in one another, they spoke in unison.

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am hers and she is mine. From this day until the end of my days”

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am his and he is mine. From this day until the end of my days.”

“With this kiss, I pledge my love.” Jaime concluded the vows and pull her closed. Brienne felt her stomach flip as Jaime placed a lingering kiss to her lips. The sound of cheers erupted from their group of witnesses.

Breaking the kiss, they rested their foreheads against one other as Jaime whispered for her ears only. “You know, our next duty is to make those heirs.” Brienne swatted him and rolled her eyes as Jaime chuckled lightlyl.

Their group of friends stepped forward to congratulate them as Daenerys approached the Septon. “Yes, your Grace. I’ll have this recorded on the morrow.”

Brienne was pulled into more hugs than she had experience in all her life combined. Turning to see her father, she saw a sad smile on his face as he remained rooted in spot. While pleased he had attended and went so far as to bring a cloak for her, Brienne worried that their relationship would never be the same.

_Does he hate me? Will he want to be part of our lives or was this his goodbye?_

Before Brienne could think on it further, Daenerys’ voice lifted over the chatter and laughter. “Well, my cousins didn’t give me much time to prepare, but there is a small feast awaiting us inside. Lets go have some drink and food to celebrate love.”

Brienne moved to untie the ribbon from their hands, but Jaime swatted her hand way and laugehd. “Look you’re chained to me. It’s just like when you yanked me about the Riverlands on a rope.”

“Jaime! I am not keeping this on.” Brienne tried to yank her hand bank to untie the ribbon, but he was too strong and held her hand firmly.

“You dishonor Catelyn Stark. She wanted this.” Arya and Sansa snorted from beside them as their group began to walk back towards the castle.

Brienne guffawed and raised a brow at Jaime. “She did not want this! I’m certain she would be most displeased by it really.”

Again trying to tug their bound hands towards her, Brienne chuckled and tried to untie the ribbon. Wrestling as they walked, Jaime kept teasing and holding her off.

“Ned and Cat loved me like a son. Nothing would have made them happier than this.” Sansa chuckled as she walked before them. Glancing over her should, Sansa’s lips were pressed into an amused smile.

“I’m certain my mother envisioned the two of you like that as much as she envisioned me married happily to the other Lannister brother.” Tyrion scoffed in mock offense at her side.

“You wound me. How could any mother not wish to see their daughter married to Tywin’s most disappointing child.”

As Sansa and Tyrion continued to needle one another, Brienne and Jaime lagged behind; a wrestling match over the ribbon breaking out. Jaime looped his free arm around her waist and pulled her close, continuing to tease her about the ribbon. As they chuckled and fought playfully, Brienne caught sight of her father.

Selwyn was sitting on the bench off to the side from where they previously stood. He looked out quietly over the water and Brienne felt her spirits fall slightly. Following her gaze, Jaime’s laughter died. “Do you need a moment?”

“Please. I’ll be right there.” Brienne watched as Jaime raised their bound hands to his lips and placed a kiss to her knuckles. “As my wife wishes.”

As Brienne pulled at the knot in the ribbon binding their hands together, Jaime grabbed the cloth and placed it in his pocket. Brienne felt Jaime’s hand come back to her cheek; this thumb brushing against her skin. He placed a light kiss to her lips and smiled before walking back towards the castle.

Looking to her father, Brienne descended the steps. Selwyn turned at the sound of her approach; his brows knitted in confusion. “You should go inside. Enjoy the feast.”

“Will you join us?” Brienne asked cautiously; fearing she already knew the answer.

“No, I think not.”

Brienne’s heart dropped at the words. Her jaw clenched in understanding and she bowed her head. Turning to walk up the stairs, her father’s voice halted her progress.

“I’m happy that you’re happy. Happy that you’ve found love.”

Glancing to her father, Brienne considered his words. “Can you ever accept him?

Selwyn sighed loudly and met Brienne’s eyes. “I don’t think so.”

“Then you can’t accept me.”


	33. Motivation (Jaime)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne attend their wedding feast and Jaime thinks over the day's events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Smut ahead

The wine was flowing and the food never-ending. _For someone who had no time to prepare, Daenerys seems prepared to feed an entire kingdom._ Jaime looked to his left and caught Brienne’s eye. He was pressed up as close to her body as decency would allow without sitting in her lap.

Cohollo seemed to have indulged in a barrel’s worth of wine as he acted out Jaime’s victory for their rowdy table of wedding guests. Standing behind Jaime, he animatedly swung around the wooded leg of the chair he accidentally broke only moments earlier.

The intoxicated voice of the Dothraki warrior continued the tale as the table laughed at his antics. “And then… he snap! Fucking kill Daario for his speak of Brienne!” With a dramatic flair, he cut through the invisible opponent like a wild man.

At the end of his assault against the air, Cohollo approached Jaime from behind and put him in a headlock. “This man! Big balls!”

At Cohollo’s words, Brienne choked on her wine and Daenerys groaned from across the table, shaking her hands in refusal. “No, no. I can’t. I can’t have any talk about Ser Jaime’s balls at this feast.”

Arya giggled at the queen’s side and for the first time since she reappeared in Westeros, she looked her age. The youthful energy and innocence long lost returned before Jaime’s eyes. “I’m sure Brienne has different plans for Ser Jaime’s balls later.” _And… that ruined it. The child is gone._

“Oh Gods!” Brienne gasped at Jaime’s side, but it was the voice of Sansa that carried over the crowd. “Arya! Watch your mouth! I have no desire to think on any of that where it concerns my goodbrother.”

Everyone returned to their paired off conversations and Jaime found himself again lost in Brienne’s eyes. She looked so youthful and happy. The stern mask typically covering her face had retreated in favor of an open smile, soft eyes, and pinked glow to her cheeks.

Wrapping his left arm around Brienne, Jaime’s thumb rubbed circles into her hip as he kissed her neck just below the ear. “When can we leave?”

Brienne elbowed him playfully and shook her head. “Later. Daenerys went to a lot of trouble for this.”

With a heavy sigh, Jaime turned back to the table. He soon felt a dainty hand on his right arm. Turning his head, he met Sansa’s eyes. “I’m glad to see your nerves left you in time for the fight earlier. You had us worried this morning. Tyrion thought he might lose his food at the sight of you losing yours.”

Jaime snorted at the words and remembered the morning spent pacing wildly in Tyrion’s room. A mix of anxiety and fear clawing at him. Worry of failing Brienne. Worry of losing her.

“What did Brienne say to get you to snap out of it? You looked quite resolute walking to the Dragon Pit.” At Sansa’s question, Jaime’s ears reddened, and he prayed to the Seven that the lighting was too low to notice. His mind wandered back to earlier that day.

They had left Sansa’s room after Brienne immediately knew something was off. Stepping outside the keep, Jaime immediately felt better as the fresh air filled his lungs.

“What’s going on?” Brienne had looked to him with worry etched on her face.

“What if I fail? What if I’m not good enough with my one, useless hand? I don’t want to doom you to a life with someone you don’t want. Who doesn’t love you as I do.” Jaime felt the panic rise again at the thought of a life without Brienne.

Brienne sighed and shook her head. “I believe in you, but if you’re uncertain, I can fight him.”

“No! No, I want to fight for you. I’m just afraid of ruining everything. I always seem to fuck everything up.” Jaime’s tone was laced with self-resentment. He believed in himself as much as he believed in Tyrion’s ability to go a day without wine.

“You do not fuck everything up! Look at how much you’ve already done for me and Westeros. You’ve saved me more times than I can count at this point. It will be fine, Jaime.” Brienne’s words were meant to soothe, but he still felt restless.

“Spar with me? Just a bit. I want to practice the grip that Arya showed me.”

With a nod of her head, Brienne and Jaime made their way towards the yards. They grabbed two tourney swords from the racks, but before Brienne could move to position, Jaime dragged her away from the yard.

“I know a better place. It’s secluded and no one can watch us train before the fight. Bronn and I trained there in the past. No one ever came by.”

What Jaime didn’t want to admit, was his fear that Daario or any of the Second Sons would see him training if they sparred in the yards. Jaime didn’t want them seeing how nervous he was.

As they made their way down to where Bronn once trained Jaime in secret, Jaime took in the sea air and listened to the waves crashing against the rocks. _I hope I get to bring her to the Rock one day. She would love it. We can spar all day and jump off the cliffs into the sea._

They squared off and sparred for some time. Pushing each other back and forth, Brienne helped correct some things that she observed, just as Arya would.

As the sun beat down on them, they both removed their jerkins and loosened their tunics. Continuing their drills, it wasn’t long before Jaime caught sight of the pink scars from the bear at Brienne’s collarbone.

Jaime’s stomach lurched at the memory. _I almost lost her that day. I can’t lose her again. I can’t be without her._

As Brienne charged in, Jaime spun around and caught her by the waist. His sword came to her neck and she yielded with a proud smile on her face, but Jaime’s mind was elsewhere. His heart was beating in his ears as he stared at the scars.

Brienne dropped her sword in surrender and Jaime let go of his as well. Cupping her jaw with his hand, Jaime pulled her into a passionate kiss before pushing aside her jerk and lowering his head to the scars from the bear. “Brienne… I love you.”

Jaime felt Brienne run her left hand through his hair as her right came to his back. Her head ducked against his shoulder as she sighed. “I love you too.”

“I can’t lose. I need you to be mine, Brienne.” Jaime’s lips came back to Brienne’s as he walked her backwards against the large rock wall at one end of the secluded beach area. Their kiss became more desperate as they both understood what was at stake.

_I can’t lose her. I can’t. What if this is the last time that I get to hold her or touch her._

Jaime’s hand lowered against her tunic and caressed the bud of her nipple that protruded underneath. The clothing felt as much of a barrier to Jaime as Daario was.

As Brienne responded to his touch and moaned into Jaime’s mouth, he pushed his body flush against hers. His hard cock pressed firm against her pelvis.

Dropping his hand lower, Jaime pulled her tunic from her breeches and ran his hand across her skin. He marveled at how soft her skin was. An incredible contrast to her strength and tone muscles. Brienne unlaced his tunic and pulled it over his head.

“Brienne. I can’t lose you.” Jaime’s voice was as desperate and needy as his touch and kisses. There was a frantic pace to which their bodies ground against each other.

Reaching for the laces of Brienne’s breeches, Jaime tugged the ties loose and pushed her breeches down slightly. His hand dipped into her small clothes as his fingers found her sensitive nub.

Brienne moaned more into his mouth. Her own hands came to the laces of Jaime’s breeches as she made quick work of the ties. His breeches hung loosely at his hips as Brienne’s long, deft fingers circled around his cock.

_Fuck. I can’t loser her. I need her so much. Don’t let this be the last time._

Grinding against Brienne, Jaime’s cock soon replaced his hand’s position at her bud. Brienne arched back and pushed her pelvis further against him as Jaime quickened his pace; grinding against her.

Shoving her breeches down further past her knees, Jaime felt Brienne toe off her boots in understanding. Jaime hooked his right arm under her left knee and pulled it over his hip. He paused his torrent of kisses to look into her eyes; begging permission silently. With a nod of her head, Jaime slowly entered her.

He moved slowly knowing she was a maid, he watched for any signs of pain. An initial wave of discomfort hit her face and Jaime took pause. Reaching down with his left hand, he rubbed circles into her nub again until the pain faded.

Watching her eyes for indication to continue, Jaime pushed deeper until he was fully sheathed in her. He took pause to marvel at the feel of being one with her.

She was tight around him and he was afraid to move. Afraid he would spill on the spot from how good she felt. Their similar height enabled the position without Jaime having to lift Brienne and hold her in place.

Brienne arched further back as Jaime began to move inside her slowly; again watching for signs of pain on Brienne’s face.

_I can’t lose her. I want everyday with her to be like this. This can’t be the last time._

Jaime kept rubbing her nub as he thrust in and out of her. Their breathing became frantic and their kisses sloppy. Jaime felt his release building but tried to wait to ensure Brienne found pleasure first.

Brienne’s hands were firm against his ass and pulled him close. Her body began to shake as she moaned louder into his mouth. When Jaime felt her walls tighten around him, he couldn’t hold off any longer. They came together as Jaime growled his own release against her lips.

He realized too late that he spilled deep within her. As their bodies stilled, they locked eyes; both sets filled with a mix of love and lust.

As their foreheads pressed together and they steaded their breathing, Jaime reached for her face. “I won’t lose. This won’t be the last time.”

Jaime wanted to stay like that all day. His softening cock inside her screamed to be left alone. Looking at the position of the sun, he knew they needed to return soon.

Regrettably, Jaime withdrew himself and pulled his breeches up slightly from their position just below his ass. Helping Brienne with her clothing, Jaime pulled up her breeches and helped her with her shoes.

As he stepped back to collect his tunic, Jaime met Brienne’s eyes. An unspoken promise on his lips. _I will win this._

They collected the rest of their things and began the walk back to the castle. As they climbed the rocks from the beach, their progress was halted when they saw Olenna Tyrell.

The queen of thorns had taken to long walks to escape the mental anguish of her torture at Cersei’s hands. The older woman had a knowing smile on her lips. _Fuck. She saw us._

Her little writing board was tucked under her arm; a suggestion Tyrion had made for when she encountered anyone on her walks. With a slightly chuckle, she began scribbling on her board.

“Don’t worry. You can trust me not to _say_ anything. Congratulations on fucking someone _not_ your sister.” Jaime’s eyes widened as they read the board.

With a raised finger, she started writing again and quickly shoved the board in Jaime’s face. “Nice ass by the way.”

Now as he sat at the feast with Sansa’s inquisitive eyes boring into him, Jaime’s rapidly reddening ears felt as though Drogon had breathed on them.

“What did Brienne say?” Jaime repeated Sansa’s question as she rolled her eyes. “Yes, that is the question.”

“Uh… we talked for a bit, but we mostly sparred. She corrected some things. I think it was mostly the distraction of exercise that helped.”

Sansa shrugged as though it mattered little to her. She turned back to Tyrion and they renewed their conversation. Jaime thanked the Gods he was seated. The memories from earlier in the day had left him hard and wanting at Brienne’s side.

Leaning over to Brienne once more, he whispered in her ear. “Is it time yet?”

Brienne chuckled and shook her head. “You literally just asked me that.”

With an imploring look, Jaime raised a suggestive brow. “I was hoping we could _spar_ again. This time without Olenna around to judge other areas of my performance.”

At his boldness, Brienne’s eyes widened, and she elbowed him lightly. She looked up and down the table before meeting his eyes and snorting. “Alright. Give me the sword, KIngslayer.”

“Oh, I will.”


	34. Raven's Wings (Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selwyn departs as the North arrives.

_By the Gods what are they doing?_ Sansa knocked louder and huffed as she heard a commotion on the other side of Jaime’s and Brienne’s assigned room. Rapid footsteps approached the door and pulled it open to reveal a winded, shirtless Jaime.

Sansa’s eyes went wide as she took in the scene before her. The throw pillows were a pile of feathers across the bed, floor, and floating down from the air. Both Brienne and Jaime had feathers stuck to their heads and their hair was a mess; sticking out at all corners.

Seeing her shock, Jaime looked back to assess the sight himself. “Um. We had an issue with the pillows.” Brienne bit back a laugh as she attempted to smooth back her into its usual position. Her breeches were on, but her tunic hung loosely on her body in a most disheveled state.

“An issue with the pillows?” Sansa looked skeptically to Jaime before glancing back at Brienne.

“Yes, my wife thought they looked better smashed across my face than placed delicately on the bed.”

Brienne huffed in indignation at his words. “Me!? I seem to recall you trying to smother me with one of those pillows!”

“I thought I saw a spider! I was merely trying to spare my ears from the assault of your voice when you realized it for yourself.”

“That was one time!” Brienne pointed an accusatory finger at Jaime as she stood from the bed and marched towards him.

Jaime bit back a laugh at the sight of her. “Well the damage is done my lady. I thought we were being attacked and I had no weapon. I was tied to a tree.”

“You were a prisoner! Did you expect me to arm you at night? You would have killed me in my sleep.”

“I would never! You were my future wife. I swore an oath to Lady Catelyn. Return to King’s Landing. Release her daughters. See them home safely. Marry Brienne of Tarth.”

“She did _not_ say that.”

“What!? Our entire relationship has been a lie!?”

“I hate you and I’m leaving.” Turning to Sansa, Brienne’s face smoothed into a formal smile. “Apologies. I must have lost track of time dealing with this idiot.” 

Jaime looked between Sansa and Brienne as he feigned insult at the assumed oversight. “Where are you going? Why wasn’t I invited?”

Sansa smiled mockingly as she replied. “Your goodfather departs for Tarth shortly. We are going to the docks to see him off. Care to join us?”

Jaime’s nose scrunched in distaste. “I think I’ll clean up the murdered pillows. Is Tyrion going? Where is he?”

“He’s with the staff preparing for the North’s arrival. Jon and our men should be here by midday.”

“Ugh. Fine… I’ll come to the docks.” Jaime stomped back to the chest at the foot of the bed and threw back the lid as he tore through his things. Grabbing a tunic, he marched towards the door like a sulking child being dragged off to lessons.

“Shoes, Jaime.” Brienne sighed as she spoke; watching as he immediately turned back to retrieve his boots.

Sansa snorted at her goodbrother. _Such a manchild_. She watched as Brienne grabbed one of her blue jerkins from the corner table; no doubt a nod to Tarth as she rarely wore it. For his part, Jaime seemed to care little for the formality of a jerkin. Or at least until Brienne glared at him.

When eventually they left the castle to make their way to the docks, Sansa found herself continuously looking out across the city gates as they made their way down hill. She was eager to see Jon and the men from the north.

Now that Daenerys had formally offered her the role of Master of Laws, Sansa knew it would be some time before she saw home again. She was also eager to share word of her vow renewal to Tyrion.

Just days prior, they formally announced plans to Daenerys to rewed. Unlike Brienne and Jaime, Sansa was not averse to a large wedding and feast. Both she and Tyrion felt it would be good for the realm; a happy occasion to bring the kingdoms together.

The ride to the docks was uneventful and Sansa found time went quickly as she listened to Jaime and Brienne bantering in their usual way. It reminded her of the journey from Winterfell to Dragonstone. 

“What are you munching on?” Brienne’s lips curled in disgust as Jaime slurped on a fruit clutched firmly in his hand.

“It’s a peach.”

“Do you have to slurp like that? Gods. And it gets all over your clothing.”

Sansa followed Brienne’s eyeline to Jaime tunic and jerkin which were covered in the juices dripping off his chin. “I have one hand. How am I to dab at my face like a little priss when said hand is occupied by the fruit?”

“Do you need me to wipe your chin like a babe?” Brienne’s tone was teasing, and Jaime looked to her with amusement writ across his face.

“You’ve wiped worse off of me.” At his words, Brienne’s face scrunched in displeasure and Jaime chuckled loudly at a shared memory that Sansa cared little to learn about.

The reached the docks and Jaime’s mirth died. Realizing that he did in fact have nothing to clean his hand and face with, he looked to Brienne in slight panic. “He probably won’t want to shake my hand anyway, right?”

Brienne sighed and shook her head. “Just use your breeches.”

“No! Then they’ll be sticky. Sansa, let me use your sleeve. You’ve more fabric on that dress than Brienne and I combined. You’ll hardly notice.”

“If you touch me with that filthy hand, I will beat you over the head with your false one.” Sansa cast a warning glare at Jaime as she observed the mischief dancing in his eyes. With a challenging smirk, Jaime took an exploratory step towards her with his flesh hand extended towards her.

“Jaime Lannister, I swear by the Seven if you sully my dress!”

Selwyn’s booming voice caught the group’s attention as he walked down the docks towards them. “You came! I wasn’t certain if you would.” Seeing Jaime’s attention captured by his goodfather, Sansa moved forward to stand just behind Brienne.

Brienne met her father halfway and the pair made small talk as the men buzzed about the ship, loading the last of the goods to be taken back to Tarth.

“Your hair looks very pretty today by the way.” Jaime whispered into Sansa’s ear as he ran his sticky hand down the length of her red locks; using her hair as a giant napkin. Biting back a wide smile, Jaime moved forward to stand just behind Brienne. _I will kill him!_

Selwyn and Brienne spoke for a few more minutes. The conversation never venturing outside of a polite exchange one may overhear between acquaintances. Sansa felt a pang of sympathy for Brienne who seemed to so desperately want her father’s affection and approval, but the older lord had kept to himself since the wedding. He was even more closed off than usual and even Daenerys saw little of him.

“Well, I best head out then. The men seem to have everything aboard ship except me.”

Brienne nodded and stood nervously, waiting for her father to make a move. Placing a hand to her shoulder, Selwyn smiled warmly at Brienne. “You take care my little star.”

With a tight smile, Brienne swallowed thickly and found her words. “Yes, well… safe travels.”

Selwyn looked over Brienne’s shoulder to Sansa. “Lovely to meet you Lady Stark. Take care of yourself and good luck in your new role.” With a returning smile, Sansa bid Selwyn farewell; silently berating the man for the cold sendoff to Brienne. _For someone who claims to love his daughter, he has a funny way of showing it._

Glancing to Jaime, Selwyn eyed him wearily. A nervous smile spread across Jaime’s face as he extended his hand to Selwyn. The older lord hesitated, and his eyes moved quickly to Brienne. With a heavy sigh, Selwyn extended his hand to take Jaime’s.

As soon as their hands join, Selwyn’s lips curled in disgust. “By the Seven, what is on your hand?”

Sansa snorted as Jaime’s eyes went wide and he quickly withdrew his hand. “Sorry! I was eating a peach. Don’t worry. It’s not sticky from anything unsavory.” A nervous laugh pushed past Jaime’s lips until he realized what he had said.

Brienne gawked at him and Sansa covered her mouth quickly to muffle her laughter. _What an idiot_. _Does he ever think before he speaks?_

“Jaime. Why don’t you see to the horses.” Brienne spoke the words through gritted teeth as Jaime immediately took off to stand by their mounts.

With a quick glance back at Sansa, Brienne looked to her father and spoke in valyrian. While Sansa didn’t understand the words, she could sense Brienne’s nervousness in asking the question.

Selwyn rubbed his hand over his face, forgetting it was covered in peach juice. The look on his face at the realization almost sent Sansa into another fit of laughter, but whatever he said to Brienne ended any mirth in Sansa’s soul. Brienne hung her head as Selwyn turned quickly to board the ship. 

The ride back up to the keep wasn’t as quick nor as entertaining. Brienne seemed lost in her own thoughts. Jaime was busy trying to rub off the hair that clung to his hand from where the sticky juice of the peach came into contact with the horse’s mane. 

Entering the courtyard, Sansa gasped at the sight of the Stark banners. “They’re here!” Dismounting quickly, Sansa ran inside as Jaime and Brienne trailed close behind. When she reached the throne room, Sansa, slowly opened the door and gasped.

There, in the center of the throne room beside Jon, was Bran. _Gods! He’s alive_. Approaching as though Bran was a babe just put down for a nap, Sansa stared at him in awe. Her baby brother was alive and nearly a man grown.

Tears pooled in her eyes when Bran turned to meet her gaze. “Hello Sansa.”

Falling to her knees before him, Sansa threw her arms around Bran’s neck. “Gods! I can’t believe you’re alive! When did you come home?”

“Just days before Jon left to come here.” Bran’s voice was low and devoid of emotion. His eyes seemed to look through her. _Is he unwell?_

Turning to look at Jaime and Brienne, Sansa noted that Jaime had gone ashen at the sight of Bran. _Yes, we always suspected the Lannisters were behind his near death. To what extent Ser Jaime was involved, I dare not ask_.

Turning to see Jaime and Brienne, Bran smiled warmly. “Lady Brienne. Ser Jaime.” _How does he know Brienne?_

It only just then occurred to Sansa that Daenerys, Tyrion, Varys, Arya, Grey Worm and Missandei were in the room. “Lady Sansa, we were sorry you were at the docks for you kin’s arrival. They asked after you immediately.”

Arya stood flush at Jon’s side and was talking his ear off about all that had happened since they last parted. With a small laugh, Sansa stood from her crouched position on the floor and met Daenerys’ eyes.

“Your cousin just bent the knee. A formality I suppose as he is quite insistent that he doesn’t want to be Warden of the North or lord of anything really.”

“My cousin? You mean my brother.” Sansa corrected Daenerys, but she quickly observed that Jon and Arya exchange knowing looks. From below her, Bran’s voice carried through the room; echoing off the walls of the throne room.

“He isn’t a bastard, but a trueborn king. Father lied to keep him safe from Robert. He is the lawful son of our Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen.” At Bran’s words, Sansa flinched. “What? No, Bran you’re confused. Mayhap the fall…”

“It’s all so clear now. Everything is. I’m not Bran Stark anymore, I’m something else now.”

Jon sighed and shook his head. “Sansa, I didn’t believe it myself, but Sam read about their wedding at the Citadel. It’s true.”

Sansa gasped and reached for her heart. _He’s the heir to the throne_. Arya chirped up from beside Jon. “His name is Aegon Targaryen. How fucking cool is that. He was meant to be a king!” A loud guffaw pushed past Arya’s lips, but Jon only sighed heavily.

“I told you. I don’t want it. I don’t even want to be lord of Winterfell. When are you coming home Sansa? The lords would see you their liege. You’re a strong leader. Stronger than I.”

Sansa huffed a laugh. “I’m not. I’m staying here as Master of Laws and… with my husband.” Sansa’s eyes darted to Tyrion who smiled warmly at her.

From behind them, Jaime laughed sarcastically. “Do you mean to tell me that you’ve known this all along! Brienne was named heir by Daenerys under the assumption she was the only other Targaryen. I almost lost her because the Queen here insisted that she needed an heir. Her heir is right there! Could no one have said something sooner?” 

As everyone stood in silence, Sansa observed a wide smile pull at Bran’s lips. “I wanted to see what would happen. It’s always interesting to see the things you’ll do for love.”

Jaime paled at Bran’s words; his eyes wide. He glanced to Brienne, but his attention was recaptured by Bran. “Nice ass by the way.” With a knowing smile, Bran looked back to Daenerys.

“You have three options for heir if you produce none of your own, but that isn’t what you truly needed your kin for. You need Brienne and Jon for the war to come. The dragon has three heads and will need them all for the battle against death itself. You three are the last living Targaryens.”

Sansa looked to Bran in confusion. “Three options? I thought you just said Jon and Brienne were the only remaining Targaryens beside Daenerys”

Bran smiled and turned back to Jaime and Brienne. His eyes flickered to Brienne’s belly. “There will be another soon enough, but death will be here first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I think I'm leaving it off here. I originally planned to go straight through the Long NIght (I had the chapters broken out with key plot lines), but I've written quite a few long night fics or parts of a fic and thought... mehhhh. Plus, I image other authors here have written amazing Long Night fics so it isn't as interesting for this fic perhaps. Thanks to everyone who read! I appreciate all the amazing comments that came my way on this one. I will say this... Selwyn was going to really pay up in "part 2", but he was going to see redemption. Again.. meh...


End file.
